Author: 3ogblog

Stars of the Silver Screen

Linda and I are often the last ones to leave a movie theater. This is because Linda likes to watch all the credits: she is interested in where the movie is filmed, the production company, the gaffer and best boy, the caterers and so forth. I’ve come to believe that she has the right idea – it’s amazing how many individuals are required to make a movie. Life is kind of like that, full of main characters and supporting cast.

Each of us, of course, is the star of our own movie… and others are simply supporting actors in that drama, comedy, action thriller, or horror show. Have you ever stopped to think that our ‘performances’ are broadcast to the universe in the outgoing light and perhaps some alien presence viewing light from our planet’s past are watching our reruns? What would you name your movie? (I’m currently filming an episode, Wal’s Complex Relationship with His House).

Sometimes I get stuck in my own script and forget that I’m a bit player in other performances. Logically, we all know that every individual is the main character in their own story. However, recently I ran across a word which describes the visceral impact of truly realizing that fact: “Sonder”. Sonder is the lived insight that recognizes that other individuals have complex, compelling and tumultuous currents in their stories – stories which we may not have fully appreciated.

When I discussed this idea with Hen and George, they kind of said “Of course! We already know that – what’s the big deal?” Yet, the word sonder won’t go out of my head – it seemed an epiphany to me: the difference between knowing something and feeling something. Hen asked: Why is this important to you? A good question…

I’m unsure. Maybe I don’t move my chair often enough, so my view is always the same? Maybe I don’t pay attention enough to those around me? My sense has always been that we are all sparks of consciousness dancing in an energy field. Is that dance based on a rhythm we are called to join – or just a stochastic distraction?

I’d like to think that we all share a connection within that energy field and I’m missing the boat by being caught up in my own ‘movie’ too much of the time. I suspect that I’m not the only one who becomes a prisoner of their personal narrative. I am asking my Old Guy buddies (and you, dear readers) to think about what you do to place yourselves in someone else’s perspective.

I’ve determined that I’m going to spend a portion of each day appreciating the story of another person: not invasively, not with a desire to change that story, but simply to honor someone else’s production. I’m going to use “sonder” as my trigger word.

Many Lives to Live

In the 50’s there was a crime show my family always watched. It was Dragnet.  The opening line as the show began was, “There are a thousand stories in the Naked City!”  I can attest to that as within my family there had to be hundreds.  When Wal came up with this topic, I felt like it was an old friend.  I knew that from the time I was a young kid.  I never knew the word for it but the concept was in my DNA.  We were never a Father Knows Best or Leave it to Beaver family.  Money was always an issue and that lead to quarrelling and arguments.  My dad was no Ward Cleaver either as he tended to nip the alcohol rather heavily which would lead to more quarrels. I learned early on as Hen did when visiting other houses  in the neighborhood that this was not normal family life behavior, but I also knew that was something not meant to be shared with the neighbors.

Add to that I slowly began to realize I had something of my own that I had no  intention of sharing with anyone, inside or outside of my house.  It was a secret too heavy to share and too heavy to hold onto alone for a long time.  I didn’t understand  it at first and when I reached the teen years and awareness of sexuality the severity and heaviness of the burden became very difficult to bare.  So, I packed it away and pretended I myself didn’t believe it.  The story got more complicated as I aged, hiding a significant part of my life because I knew how my family and society in general would react.  I became an expert at pretense.  I was one of those stories in the Naked City!

I learned to bury it and entered relationships in a sincere fashion.  I found love, became a productive member of society with a job i absolutely loved and continued along those lines for 27 or so years until the weight of the lie and its effect on my psyche and body was just too much, and I came out!  My story abruptly changed and it was difficult at first but I realized that for once I was living my life the way it was intended.  To say a huge weight was lifted off my chest is an understatement.  It was almost like a rebirth  and  as things simmered down I realized everyone was carrying some weight of their own that few others knew about.  Just a fact  of life!

Sitting in YOUR Seat

In “Stars of the Silver Screen,” Wal challenges us to consider sonder—a word that pushes him to step outside his internal views and connect with the rest of us as we navigate our own unique, overlapping lives.

Growing up, my home stood out. In a neighborhood of sixty houses, ours was the only one with a single mother and an absent father. Yet, I assumed everything else was standard—until I visited friends and was shocked by the strange foods they ate, or that they put ketchup on hot dogs instead of mustard! As I grew older, I realized how many viewpoints existed. My mother taught us to accept those differences, though the underlying message I absorbed was that our way was still better—even right.

After a lifetime of work and relationships, I learned that each of us is the star of our own story. Yet Wal consistently inspires me to take what I know, examine it closely, and find ways to grow. This piece is no exception.

Wal asks whether he moves his chair enough. Years ago, as a new principal leading an elementary school through a transition, I wondered if I was truly seeing things from my staff’s perspective. I regularly visited classrooms, observing from the doorways or back corners, but was I close enough?

One Labor Day weekend, after my team had spent days setting up their rooms on their own time, I visited the empty, quiet building. My goal was to write personal notes to all seventy team members—teachers, custodians, assistants, cooks, and aides. In each room, I sat in that person’s chair. Looking out from their vantage point, I gained deeper insight into who they were. Sitting in their space before writing my welcome note forced me out of my own spotlight and allowed me, for a moment, to see the true main character of that room.

Wal concludes with the notion that we all share a connection within that energy field of consciousness. Yet, despite his desire to connect, he often misses opportunities because he doesn’t consider enough what goes into producing each person’s story. Rather than intruding, he simply seeks to become more aware and appreciative. To that, I say: count me in!

“It was a night when all the world seemed to be going somewhere… Every man’s life a story, if you could only read it, but most of us only get to read a few pages of our own.”

-William Thackeray, The History of Pendennis

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Sitting With Unfinished Business

I recently read a New York Times article by Melissa Kirsch that piqued my interest. It was titled “Unfinished Business.”

The question she poses is whether we can sit without discomfort, stress, or anxiety while we’re in the process of completing a task, project, or goal. I would take it a step further and ask whether we can remain comfortable throughout the striving and effort that completion requires. Better yet, can we actually find pleasure and satisfaction in even the most arduous and challenging endeavors before they’re finished?

Ms. Kirsch reminds us that our culture prizes productivity, speed, and an ever-growing list of accomplishments as measures of success. Rather than finding patience in the process, we often react to our feelings of agitation and restlessness until the task is finally “done.” Our technology reinforces this mindset, constantly prompting us to finish this, close that, and check off another item on the list. We experience a brief sense of satisfaction and accomplishment—until the next challenge appears and we’re right back where we started. It seems like an endless cycle of temporary homeostasis, or perhaps fleeting joy.

What if we considered how much time we actually spend in that relaxed state of closure compared with the time we spend working toward it? In which state does your mind spend more time? Since life unfolds in both places, how much of it do we spend feeling satisfied and content?

Recently, I ordered an outdoor tabletop and storage unit to place beside my grill. It came from Wayfair, so I expected some assembly would be required. Never have I seen so many parts for something so relatively simple! There were countless instances where I had to assemble small components before attaching them to larger pieces—steps that easily could have been completed at the factory without adding a single inch to the shipping box.

As I caught myself complaining about the unnecessary steps and the maddeningly ambiguous diagrams, I decided to take a break. During that pause, I realized something. Despite making mistakes that required disassembly and starting over, and despite assembling parts that could have arrived pre-built, I was actually enjoying the challenge. Despite it becoming apparent that I wound’t be completing the unit in the time I had allotted, solving each problem myself was becoming more satisfying than simply getting the project finished. In fact, I realized I would probably appreciate the completed unit more than if I had paid someone else to assemble it.

That realization changed everything. Instead of resenting the “extra” work, I became grateful for it.

Every time I work with tools, I become a little more confident and a little more skilled. I learn which tool to use, when to use it, and how to do the job better the next time. I also enjoy solving puzzles, so deciphering diagrams with nothing more than letters and numbers became a worthwhile mental exercise. I’m pleased with the finished product—but I’m also looking forward to the next project.

This experience happened to work for me. Of course, someone with little interest or aptitude for this kind of work—and who has the time and financial means to hire someone else—might wisely choose that route. There’s nothing wrong with that.

But for the many tasks, projects, and goals over which we have less control, perhaps the better choice is to discover the benefits hidden within the process rather than merely endure it until it’s over. We can spend our lives waiting for completion so we can enjoy brief moments of contentment, or we can learn to appreciate the work itself.

To me, that’s the real choice. We can postpone our happiness until our unfinished business is finally finished, or we can learn to sit with the discomfort, accept it with patience, and recognize that much of life’s meaning is found not at the finish line, but along the way.

“Maturity says: I don’t need closure to choose peace.” –

-Anonymous

POV

I’m in a storage cubby in the eaves of my house, removing very old insulation. It’s over 90 degrees outside and set to broil inside this narrow space – a space too confined to stand up. Naturally, I’m dressed appropriately for the job, which makes it even more uncomfortable. Why I’m here at this moment is a lesson in poor planning.

Nevertheless, while struggling to complete this task, I am actually thinking about Hen’s post. Can I learn to live with unfinished business and leave this for cooler weather? Can I find satisfaction and focus on the process?

Well, I’d love to put this task off for the Fall, but that would mean putting off installation of the carpet squares I ordered for the connected room. In turn that would mean delaying the task of hoisting the new bookcase up the stairs,  which is now sitting in its boxed state in entry porch. 

So, living with unfinished business is certainly possible – and even desirable – as I wipe the sweat out of my eyes. Unfortunately, it’s already been unfinished for far too long. And what’s never started… etc., etc.

Okay, so how about finding some satisfaction in the process? Well, first, I’m thankful that I can still do work like this. Someday soon, I won’t be able (another reason not to live with unfinished business). At the moment, however, I’m not finding my joy. I do understand Hen’s thrust: look for the benefit in a job that may not be desirable or possible to complete quickly. After all, being miserable and frustrated does not improve a bad situation.

I have now finished the process of loading the contractor bags with old, rotten fiberglass insulation, removed the furring strips that sort of held it up, and vacuumed the floor, walls, and joists. Soaked with sweat, but finally able to stand straight, I feel satisfaction that the worst is behind me. While the whole project is not finished, I can take pleasure in completing small steps along the way. I suppose it’s all in your Point of View, which is what Hen was describing.

Hen usually ends with a quote… here’s one that informs my POV.

“Work consists of whatever a body is obliged to do. Play consists of whatever a body is not obliged to do”

Mark Twain, Author

The End Result

Let me say right at the beginning that I get more pleasure when the job is done than when I am doing it……..with one exception!  If the job is something I enjoy doing, then that is a different story.  I will explain!  Like Wally, I have many of those jobs that I dread doing but have to get done.  Case in point, combining two households requires making space where space was never a problem before.  I direct you to my garage.  It is a nice 2 car garage in need of a new electronic operating door.  Over the years I have lived here the garage became home to boxes of things to be disposed of when I got a chance.  Also included in the garage inventory was broken or unused furniture, many odd pieces, bookshelves, 3 legged chairs, anyway you get the picture. Having 2 adult kids I have also become the depository of my son’s cleaning tools from when he lived in NY- various ladders, vacuums, lawn torturing tools et al.  My daughter, having a small house and needing to shed various objects from her house as already mentioned.  The point being, floor space shrank considerably to the point that only a Fiat could fit in on one side of the garage.  Add to the list a variety of buckets, ladders, rakes, shovels etc.  seem to decorate the side walls as well.

Suddenly, my life changes and the garage no longer functions as a utility building but rather a place to store our vehicles, 2 Jeeps!  I would quickly walk past the garage when entering my house from the car with the gnawing knowledge that yes, I have to clear that out.  I will do it tomorrow, as if one day would do the trick.  Already the anxiety of working up to the job is enough stress for me to deal with. Tomorrow comes a few days later and I hold my breath and enter the garage.  Just looking around is enough to choke a horse stress wise. But I have to do it. My partner who often asks if I went to hoarding school, as he believes I have trouble disposing  of things.  He helps me get started.  Here is where some enjoyment comes in.  I start organizing the reusable stuff like furniture pieces, ceramic stuff, tools I haven’t used in years and other various and sundry things and put them out by the curb.  Suddenly a new excitement comes over me every time car lights flash on my window and I run to see someone picking over my junk and loading stuff into his car.  First thing I do each morning is check the curb and the happiness overcomes me when the curb is empty and ready for more stuff.  That part of this job is really fun for me and gives me a good feeling.  I would love it were that all that had to be done but alas, garbage containers await,  I have to make decisions regarding things that I never know if I might need  again!  You never know when you might need a short handled rake, which at one  time had a long handle, to rake an area that you may have to crawl into to clean out.  Is that being unreasonable?  Don’t answer that!

I will end by saying that my garage now fits a Wrangler and a Jeep Cherokee.  I want to finish by saying I am so relived the job is done and the pleasure for me is that it is now a usable garage.  And Like Hen and Wal I too will finish with a quotation………”If I don’t do it, who will?”  My Dad!

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Way Behind the Times

I’m way behind the times!  I was comfortable when things moved slowly. When I received a bill, I sat down and wrote a check, sent it through the mail and recorded it in my check book.  Easy, logical, neat!  I still pay my bills by writing checks. My friends make fun of me!  But it is comforting for me to see my ledger and I can check my math to see how much money I had left in my account! I felt like an adult!  Today things are moving too fast!  I remember making a collect call to myself when I would return to college after a weekend at home.  Mom would answer and the operator would say she had a collect call for me and my mom would say I wasn’t there but then she knew I was back safely.  Simple, clean, easy!

Today, everything moves so fast!  Phones and computers speed up life.  Shopping can be done 24 hours a day without leaving your house.  I have been very unsuccessful shopping on line. Either my credit card company has no record of the purchase or I never receive the product!! 

Today, and recently I reached my boiling point.  I purchased plants  from my nursery and when I went to check out, their credit card machine was on the fritz and would only take a tap card!  Having no idea what that was, she looked through my credit cards and found one that had 3 curved lines, placed it on the machine and the purchase went through! I’m turning 80 in a month and a half, and wish the world would slow down!  I realize that will not happen so I better get with it or I will be out of touch with life today!

After talking with Wally and Henry, they convince me that if I don’t change my thinking I will fall behind. I’m not exactly sure how to change my thinking. I have to be open to new approaches to life, get people to help when my 80 year old brain doesn’t work the way it used to. I can use my kids as advisors and seniors like Wally and Henry as well. Wally spent an afternoon with me on my computer just trying to navigate through a new program they use regularly. And I guess I have to quit with the techno jokes that I often fall back on to hide my computer illiteracy! I owe it to myself to give it a try!

Getting With It – One Step at a Time

George writes about a topic that continues to challenge him. Indeed, last year he reflected on his ongoing battles with our ever-changing technology and his yearning for a slower, simpler time. In addition to reinforcing his belief that earlier times were better and easier to navigate, he—and the rest of us seniors—must also reckon with changes that are occurring at a pace far greater than ever before. We simply don’t have the same amount of time to learn, practice, and master something before it’s outdated or replaced with a newer, smarter, and faster version.

While many of us recognize that technology has the potential to empower older adults, it can also feel overwhelming. Innovations such as telehealth, smart home sensors, wearable devices, video calls, and digital platforms allow seniors to remain in their homes longer, stay connected with family and friends, reduce isolation, and keep their minds active. Even so, I can still understand why throwing in the towel may sometimes seem like the only practical solution rather than struggling to learn yet another device or application.

However, it doesn’t have to be a win-or-lose dilemma. George still has the freedom to write checks and balance his checkbook—for now. When he encounters a payee who requires electronic payment, then he’ll need to seek the help necessary to learn that one skill. In the meantime, he can continue to enjoy a slower, simpler, and more comfortable life by relying on the habits and routines he has developed over the years.

If online shopping presents too many obstacles or raises concerns about technology-related scams, he still has the time and ability to shop in person and pay with cash or a check. If he eventually finds that he must rely on the internet to make a purchase, he can seek out someone—or a trusted resource—to help him navigate the process safely.

As he says in his post, “I better get with it or I will be out of touch with life today!” I would suggest that the life he prefers is still available to him for most of what he does, most of the time. When he encounters an obstacle, he can simply “get with it” for that particular situation. It doesn’t mean he has to become a computer expert or learn every feature his phone offers. It simply means learning what he needs, when he needs it.

“Technology is anything that wasn’t around when you were born.”

– Alan Kay

Left Behind

We three old guys routinely discuss George’s struggle in accepting some aspects of today’s technologic life. He’s not wrong about the clock speed of our reality: everything seems faster. With the right ‘magic’, financial transactions, acquisitions, and communication are almost instantaneous – but you need to be comfortable with magic wands —  like a card you can tap on a point-of-sale terminal! Amazing, right? (Okay, I’m being sarcastic).

It’s hard for me to understand why that act seems so difficult for Geo. Do it once and it’s a learned behavior. Individuals with less competence complete this task every day. So, what’s the problem?

I suspect it is the number of innovations that seem to materialize each week – or changing procedures that are constantly revised. It’s an issue of mass. If you don’t keep up, you find yourself multiple revisions behind. It’s a world where if you want a paper invoice for your cable bill, that will be an extra $5 please, but if you pay for a meal with a credit card, another 4% is tacked on. These are not the rules we old guys grew up with. There’s an element of ‘proactive inhibition’ – the conflict of previously learned behavior competing with new protocols. We older folks have many more scripts to work through, before we learn new methods. Taken collectively, it’s an obstacle, but it is not overwhelming.

Hen is dead right: pick your core areas. You don’t have to learn every new app. So, what if you like to use Meta, but everyone else is on TikTok. You don’t have to peruse subreddits; you don’t need to be an early adopter. However, you do need to choose the areas where it is essential to keep up – or get someone to do it for you. My tennis club now only accepts Venmo… if I want to play, I’d better know how to use it.

And there it is: keep up or be left behind.  That’s the fear that Geo calls out at the end of his post. It’s a commonly held fear: one of the greatest anxieties seniors express is to become irrelevant – to be left behind. Weirdly, that fear can incent folks to hold on to proficiencies that were highly regarded several train-stops ago, but are no longer on track. My advice: keep writing checks, Geo, but add other skills to the portfolio.  

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Eulogy Virtues

I’m a big fan of David Brooks. His last column for the NY Times centered on a way of looking at your life and what you tend to cultivate. He posits a dichotomy of ‘resume virtues’ and ‘eulogy virtues’. Although I find this a bit simplistic, it makes for interesting reflection. The point is similar to the case he makes in his book,  The Second Mountain. In The Second Mountain, David Brooks outlines a life cycle where we are mainly laser focused on career achievement – that’s the first mountain. After retirement, we have the challenge of assessing whether we have led a life well-lived and what we intend to change – that’s the second mountain.

He expands on this theme by discussing resume virtues – the credentials we build through accomplishment. These credentials are observable and data-oriented: awards won, degrees held, etc. In contrast eulogy virtues reflect character built through relationships: e.g., integrity and faithfulness. Brooks posits that eulogy virtues are more important for a life well-lived.

Certainly, eulogy virtues (aptly named) are how folks remember you.  We three old guys go to more funerals than we used to, as a consequence of a shrinking cohort of contemporaries. At memorials and celebrations of life, what do you see and hear? Prominently displayed will be pictures of the deceased, usually surrounded by family and friends. The love is evident. People tell stories and anecdotes and every commentary pivots on the relational goodness of the individual. As one pastor put it recently, a consistent, caring attitude is what people mean when they describe faithfulness. Eulogy virtues are what is remembered when others evaluate how they feel about you. Brooks believes that is also how we ought to evaluate ourselves – using precepts of honesty, courage, kindness, loyalty, and faithfulness.

While it is hard to argue with these virtues, I look at my own make-up and see a person who can be caring – but when taking responsibility for an assignment – is totally consumed with getting it accomplished. Relationship values tend to fade into the background. Is that completely wrong-headed? During WWII, a famous leadership study found that soldiers preferred a leader who was structured and task oriented during combat, but preferred a softer, relational touch when in barracks duty. Sheparding a group through difficult times may exhibit less relational focus, but still support virtues of loyalty and faithfulness.

Still, a good life is a process of continual improvement. Brooks characterizes this process as one where we stumble forward in life, making mistakes and building character in the process. Stumbling is a key word: barging, lurching, mis-stepping, tripping; learning from mistakes and accepting humility in the process. I see the accuracy of using the term ‘stumble’ – certainly I do enough of that! However, I’d rather substitute the term ‘strive’ — it is more intentional. I believe that we live only as we continue to strive – strive to be improve, strive to serve, and strive to understand ourselves and the world around us. When I die, I hope to be remembered as one who didn’t quit, but continued to strive.

Resume Virtues, Eulogies Virtues and the Life Between Them

Wal’s informative piece on resume and eulogy virtues was an interesting read for me. I had never thought about dividing life into two parts: a younger, work-oriented phase and an older, post-work existence.

It makes sense that when I was younger and raising a family, I focused on doing well at work and earning a good living. As I advanced in my career, however, my devotion to it became about more than just making money; I was drawn to it because I loved what I was doing. My resume virtues grew for many reasons.

Toward the end of my first career, I spent more time learning and practicing eulogy virtues. I cared about becoming a better person and incorporated my reading and personal-growth practices into helping others grow in their leadership roles at work. Now, as a fully retired person, I care more about what people will remember about me as a person and how my character traits may have enriched my relationships with them and with others.

As Wal noted, he appreciated the concept put forth by David Brooks but found it somewhat simplistic. I’ve always enjoyed neat categories and clearly defined steps in a theory or practice. They make ideas easier to remember, repeat, and learn. But they can also brush aside overlap, omit important exceptions, and overlook the complicated background details that shape real life.

In this case, it seems obvious that a person’s eulogy virtues are recognized at funerals, celebrations, and memorials not simply because someone began building character after retirement, but because they were likely “stumbling” through their working years, learning from mistakes and becoming a better person through those experiences. I see character as an ongoing development, not as two separate mountains we climb at different times in life.

And I like that Wal talks about striving rather than stumbling through life, because that is how I see him living his life. But I think, many of us stumble despite our intention as we move forward toward the eulogy portion of our lives. And, isn’t it in the stumbling that we often find the impetus for striving?

“How lucky I am to have something that makes saying goodbye so hard.”

– A.A. Milne

Eulogies

David Brooks and I do not often see eye to eye at least politically. I fall into the very liberal category and have been called a libtard which I take as a complement. But I have always respected him for his clarity and willingness to see the other side of issues.  The classification of virtues is a great way of explaining how we live our lives and worth contemplating.  He  presents a clear picture of who we become over the span of our lives.  Eulogy virtues probably begin much earlier in life, even in our childhood years.  I remember watching my kids and how they treated our pets and other children.  That sometimes indicates a clear picture of the eulogy virtues a person will grow into in adult life.  Early on we are taught manners and respect for others as parents try to impart values on their kids. The resume virtues begin to pile up as we grow into our later teen years and early adulthood.  They are more of earned character traits and serve to help define who each of us is.

I have often thought of writing my own obituary, but then quickly dismiss the idea deciding I shouldn’t be the one who praises my own life after all others might see me differently than I see myself.  It is interesting to think of our virtues this way.  It  gives our lives some definition as to the kind of person we were.  In the course of a lifetime, it is possible to earn many resume virtues through our employment, the groups we belong to, our families and the like.  Hard work and devotion to our jobs and our interests all contribute to adding those resume virtues and over a lifetime it is possible to accumulate quite a few virtues of this nature. Combine them all together and we see a life develop in front of us that we either admire or not.  But here is my take on the whole topic.  Not being a scholar or a very deep thinker, my assessment is that perhaps the eulogy virtues play a larger role in the human makeup than the resume ones.  I would like to believe that those virtues we learn early on play a much more important role in who we become than the awards, citations, and accomplishments we accumulate over our lives.  I like to think that those early learned virtues play a significant role in earning those resume awards later on.  Without those eulogy virtues the resume ones would more than likely never have been identified or awarded!

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From Anger to Temper to Thoughtful Behavior

When I decided to write about temper and anger, I was motivated by my confusion over why I can instantly switch from a relatively calm and pleasant mood to outrage — especially now that I no longer want to.

When I was younger, that surge of adrenaline served a purpose. I felt justified, fully alive, and manly. My mother used to tell me that I would get ulcers from all the anger I expressed, though I somehow managed to keep it just below the level of physically harming things, others, or myself. In those moments of outrage — when I would shout, clench my fists, and turn red — it shifted from anger to temper. The control I had was lost, except for avoiding physical damage. Somehow, something inside me set that as a threshold I wouldn’t cross. However, until now, I didn’t really understand how or why these mood swings and resulting reactions occurred within me.

After discussing my topic with my writing partners, Wal sent me an anger schematic from ChatGPT that outlined how psychologists explain anger. In step three, it identified the role our thoughts and interpretations play in influencing anger:

“This isn’t fair.”
“I’m being treated badly.”
“They shouldn’t have done that.”

Yes! That described me perfectly. I’ve written before about my addiction to fairness, but I never made the connection between it and my anger.

After more back-and-forth discussions with Wal about how strongly this resonated with both of us, he sent me another document from the same source on anger and unfairness. In the first section, it discussed the violation of expectations: “Humans constantly predict how things should work.” Again — Yes!  That is frequently how my mind works. I often judge what people should be doing, or should have done, based on my perception of what is right, good, and best for everyone. The document went on to explain that when we perceive unfairness and cannot fix it, we become even more frustrated. Here, I would add: “which can result in loss of temper.”

I continued thinking about this and how it applies to my daily life. For example, there are times when I get frustrated with Duke on a neighborhood walk and times when I don’t. Same walk, same Duke behavior — but clearly different expectations from Hen!

Then I turned to Gemini and went back and forth with it until it clearly understood what I was asking. It suggested that anger often results from moving “fairness” from a social preference to a moral identity. “When fairness is a core value rather than a casual expectation, a violation feels less like an inconvenience and more like an assault on your worldview.”

YES!!!!

A core value is part of what defines us. It is a belief that feels non-negotiable and, ironically, is most easily identified when it is violated and we react with anger. Now I have a much clearer understanding of why I become angry and why those conditions can lead to my temper. This realization is a huge help as I work to reduce these instances.

There is much more in the research that I chose not to explore in this post. Anger can be both helpful and harmful. There are ways to manage it once we understand where it comes from. There is also much to learn about understanding our sphere of influence so we can better reserve our energy for what truly matters.

That final piece is my quest. Now that I better understand why I feel anger and frustration at certain behaviors, I can begin to accept and release those that matter least and are essentially out of my control. My desire to hold people accountable for their “unfair” actions must be guided by choosing to act only on those that matter most. And when I change my thoughts from expectations into preferences, I find that most situations are undeserving of the weight I normally give them.

“Anybody can become angry – that is easy. But to be angry with the right person, to the right degree, at the right time, for the right purpose, and in the right way – that is not easy.”  – Aristotle

Well Tempered Response

We start by being birthed into a world we don’t understand – and spend the rest of our lives trying to figure it out… generally in the company of others. Reciprocity is one of the first guiding lessons we learn. It’s no wonder fair dealing becomes a ‘core value’, as Hen explains. Do you remember that as a kid, the lowest insult was to be called a cheater – a claim that started many sandlot fights?

I completely agree with Hen’s comments about unfairness, predictability, and anger. Quite recently, I observed a car sail through a four-way stop and then sail through the next stop sign as well. The person did not speed through the intersections, nor did the person slow down. Rather, it was as though the stop signs were simply ignored. 

My first reaction was “Wow, that was unsafe – someone could have gotten hurt”. However, my second reaction was “What disrespect”!  Seems like I’m the one who felt disrespected – their violation of norms was a slap in the face to my compact with fellow humans – an agreement to have fair dealing.  I wanted to follow the car; to see who would ignore our contract – what did they look like, maybe get eye contact, express judgement. I was getting angry.

The very next day, I observed a person drive into our bank’s parking lot through the exit lane. The exit and entrance to the bank are separated and channeled, requiring two separate turns. The person parked and nonchalantly walked into the bank. It was apparent that the person was familiar with the traffic pattern, but chose to ignore it. It might have even taken more effort to approach the wrong way. So why? 

In both cases, I pronounced the behavior as “unfair”. (Sure, there might have been extenuating circumstances, but I usually rush to judgement first and employ consideration after the fact). It felt like a violation of my worldview – and I feel pretty attached to my worldview. Ah, “attachment” – I believe that is the key word. The more attached I feel, the more I’m emotionally bound to either joy or anger. Maybe I should find some distance and uncouple from my rules of fairness?

I wonder if cultivating detachment – letting things go – is a cure for anger? Or is it simply insulation from caring deeply?

Anger Management

I don’t usually get visibly angry by shouting or throwing things anymore and as I aged my anger became more of an annoyance than real anger.  At least that was the degree to which I experience anger mostly these days.  As a scrawny young kid, I was always picked on and bullied by the older and bigger kids and I discovered after a lot of hit and miss that the best way for me to survive these attacks was not to get angry but rather to show indifference.  If I gave the appearance of not getting rattled the bullies would get bored and move on to their next victim.  As I made my way through high school and then college, I found that particular approach was especially effective for me, saved me a lot of grief and bugged the hell out of those who enjoyed harassing little people into tears.  So that was my “go to” place for dealing with anger and the situations that became more annoying than upsetting to me.

Now however, and recently the anger has been building up beyond the point of annoyance.  It is happening all around me all over our country.  It came to a head  today because of an event that occurred.  My partner and I had to go to Hannaford’s for some groceries.   Kingston has many homeless people, some of whom beg on the street corners.  I have often stopped and given them a ten or a twenty dollar bill.  Some friends of mine yell at me and tell me they are only going to use that money for booze or drugs.  They may be right but I figure if it gives them any kind of pleasure for a few moments it was worth the investment.  As we pulled up to Hannaford’s today there was a young woman sitting on the pavement with her dog and a sign that said they were homeless.  I think it was the dog’s presence that really touched our hearts.  We stopped and engaged her in conversation and gave her a little cash then went about our shopping.  We decided to get the dog some cans of food, some water, and some biscuits.  We checked out and brought the bag of dog goodies over to her.  She was so appreciative, she teared up and thanked us profusely.  Here is where my entire theory went to Hell.  We got back in the car, my partner and I were in tears as we saw her open one of the tins of dog food and feed it to the beautiful animal.  My annoyance level went off the chart and anger slammed my in the face.  With no outlet to release these horrible feelings I became so enraged thinking  that in this country people can’t afford to live safely, health insurance is being denied to many citizens, people are starving, and our president and Congress are more concerned with a ballroom, a slush fund to pay the insurrectionists for their lost wages, giving this president carte blanche to allocate that money anyway he wants and he cannot be have his taxes examined or any other oversight into what is going on.  Add that to an unnecessary war, one in which the outcome cannot be as good as the situation was before it ever started!  I haven’t been this angry in decades. AND, I don’t know what to do with my anger.

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The Springing of Spring

It has been a long, cold, snowy winter.  It meant long days inside and low activity.  But lately, as the days lengthened, and the temperatures warmed a bit there is a promise in the air.  I  could feel my spirits lifting.  It was gentle, kind of like an awakening- a whisper of things to come and a belief that the worst is behind us.  No real proof of either but a ray of hope.    This past Sunday my daughter and I went out for dinner.  There is a restaurant in our town that had been on hiatus for several years beginning with Covid and it just reopened.  We used to go to it decades ago when the kids were small. It is a Chinese restaurant, one of the first in our community so it was like going down memory lane.  To our surprise, it was a flash back  into the 70’s again.  Nothing changed!  The decor was exactly as we remembered it.  We had a very nice dinner, light conversation and a very enjoyable time!  As we were getting up to leave our server dropped off two wrapped fortune cookies for us.  I never liked the way fortune cookies tasted but always enjoyed reading the fortune.  I cracked open my cookie and removed my fortune.  It said, “An optimist is the human personification of spring.”  It reinforced the way I had been feeling with the slow but definite evolution of spring.  It further lifted my spirits and I attached it to my refrigerator when I got home to remind me if things stopped evolving.  The promise was getting stronger.

I have to admit it is rare when I get labelled with that characteristic, but I have to admit it struck a chord.  I have been feeling lighter, more positive as the temperatures warmed and the days lengthened and yes, as sunlight poured into my living room.  Just reading that little slip of paper lightened my entire mood and actually put a smile on my face.  I had been making plans for things I had to do this Spring and that little poke gave me the incentive to really focus and stop procrastinating.  The biggest spring project i have is to clear out my garage which has been a dumping ground for every spare tool, planter, unused furniture for the last 5 years or so and not just my stuff.  My kids helped fill the 2 car space with a lot of their belongings as well.  Today, while the sun shone, I began by clearing out a huge 45 gallon aquarium, stand, filter, light, the works and rolled them all out to the street with a FREE sign.  In our community I have started seeing a lot of free stuff out by the curb and I am hoping someone will come along and partake of the great deal. It is going to take some time but I am in the right frame of mind to deal with it.  I have several other items ready to be labelled and put curbside for the collector, hoarder, or just passerby who wants the particular item in waiting.  And as I see more and more space opening up in my garage, my enthusiasm for the project will intensify and my spirits will climb. In all honesty, I have a basement full also that needs to be thinned out.

The thing is, my temperament, rather than being overwhelmed by it all, is actually experiencing a revitalization and excitement I haven’t felt all winter long- and it is a great feeling!  Couple that with the nurseries beginning to open and promise of new flower beds and lawn pots to be filled my mood as changed and I actually have things to look forward to.  Sure, there is a lot of work ahead- hard work.  Gardening used to be easy, but with my knees now and the difficulty I have standing after groveling around in the dirt for a while it is difficult, but it doesn’t seem to interfere with the promise of colorful flowers in large planters by my front door or rear gardens.  The colors and the freshness in the air override the knee pain and the effort of straightening my back after bending over for an hour or so.  Every night I like to walk around my house and look to see what I accomplished and if anything new is popping up through the soil and mulch.  Pride is a great motivator.

So I am going to go with the fortune cookie explanation and ride it out for as long as I can.  I have spent too much time this winter huddled under fleece blankets or dragging the garbage  out under layers of scarves and woolen gloves not to rejoice in the rebirth that this spring promises.  

A Season That Whispers – Begin Again

George writes of spring and how it lifts his well-being after feeling immobilized and sheltered in by another Hudson Valley winter. He uses words like hope and promise—lifted spirits, awakening, feeling lighter, enthusiasm, revitalization, excitement, accomplishment, rejoicing, and pride.

When we discussed his ideas for this post a couple of weeks ago, he said he wanted to write about feelings and spring—and indeed he did. That he would focus on feelings is not unexpected; George often talks and writes about how he feels and the circumstances that shape those emotions. What caught my attention in this piece is how uncharacteristically positive it is (as George himself acknowledges). Knowing he is so upbeat lifts my spirits as well. Hold on to that enthusiasm, my friend.

I have written before about my love of each season and my excitement as the signs of transition appear. Fall is the most delicious of the four, followed closely by…spring. Each year, I look forward to returning around March 1st from the warm and wonderful—but essentially two-season—Florida to Delaware, where spring begins sooner than in Georgeville and Wally country. Bulbs push their green tips through the warming soil, tree buds begin to swell, and my thoughts turn to garden preparations. By the end of March, the pear trees are blooming, the redbuds are ready to pop, and John, my neighbor across the street, fires up his lawn tractor for that first cut. 

I love the crisp mornings, warming days, and early sunlight. When Duke licks a hand or toe sticking out from under the covers at 6:15, I no longer tell him to go back to his bed. I’m ready—to take our first walk, make breakfast (first for Duke, then for me), and begin work on the gardens I planned in my dreams the night before.

And like George, when I look around at all the projects I have in mind for my gardens and property, I no longer feel overwhelmed. Partly because I have the means to hire help if I decide that’s what matters most. But what matters more is doing the work myself—alone or alongside my grandson, my neighbor Ian, or Teresa when she returns from Florida. The joy of working with my hands, and with people I love, is one of the most physically and emotionally fulfilling experiences I know. And to recognize that I still have more ideas—projects that must wait until next month, next season, or even next year—is a reminder that my time is not up. There is still much life left to live.

“An optimist is the human personification of spring!”

– Susan J. Bissonette

Waking Up

April is fickle. In Henry’s neck of the woods, Spring is in full cycle. George can see the promise of Spring in the Hudson Valley’s April, but in the north country in April, Spring is still a debate. We arrived in the Adirondacks mid-April to a drab and dreary landscape. Several days of rain flattened any new growth attempting to stand upright and the ground developed humps and valleys as moisture works to find equilibrium.

And yet… you could smell the ground. They say this is one our most acute senses: the ability to smell the earth waking up. It became more apparent after the rain had cleared and I raked the leaves off the islands of ostrich ferns in our backyard. There was still no sign of life there – the fiddleheads usually poke through in late April and grow to their height of two-to-three feet in May, barring a late season frost.

And frost is always a possibility. Temperatures are uneven: yesterday, we reached an unusual and overheated 80 degrees in the sun – today it is 32 and snowing. Tee shirts to goose down — where is Spring? I guess it’s where you find it, because it is still playing hide-and-seek. However, I think our bodies know when it’s that time; it’s visceral. Bliss Carmen writes:

“Make me over, Mother April,

When the sap begins to stir!

Make me man or make me woman,

Make me oaf or ape or human,

Cup of flower or cone of fir;

Make me anything but neuter

When the sap begins to stir!”

The mallards certainly know that the sap is stirring. I sat on the bench by the channel watching a pair forage in the mud. The water level is kept low by the Black River Water Authority until May, so there’s lots of vegetative opportunity for this couple.  Soon, there will be eight or more ducklings following the mother. Flocks of Juncos pillaged our open spaces on Thursday, but have disappeared today – likely journeying further north… so they also know that the earth is waking up.

But most importantly, George also feels it – fortune cookie or no. It’s good to hear him respond to the call of Spring!

Brand New Day

Our good friend Larry Rand suggested that we write on the topic of ‘Tomorrow is promised to no one’. Larry has good reason to examine this thought as he has been slugging it out with cancer for the last few years. So far, Larry is winning.

At first, I was not sure how to approach the topic, but this last week has brought news of two friends who survived close calls – and two who did not. Tomorrow is a prize that not everyone can claim.

On the first day of Spring, I stood on a hilltop in the windy cold, observing the interment of a man who didn’t reach tomorrow. His ashes, housed in an urn crafted from wood taken from his sailboat, were being buried. John was a guy who stayed in the background – modest – he never sought the limelight. He volunteered to drive the elderly to medical appointments or to the airport – he called himself a ‘road pilot’. He was cherished by his family. His son found some of his writings, including an entry shortly before he passed. At that time, he was in the hospital and was awakened by a lullaby broadcast over the PA system. When he asked the nurse if he dreamt of the episode, she told him that when a new baby is born, the hospital played that song, regardless of the time. John wrote, “I wish that baby has as good a life as I have had.”

Now there’s a person who knew the value of tomorrow, but had made his peace with the fact that it wasn’t a given.

I’ve read that Martin Luther, the great Christian reformer from the 1500’s, would tote up his sins every night and pray for absolution, so that he could start each new day with a clean slate. I like that idea for a number of reasons. The Greek word for sin used in the Bible is hamartia – and it means ‘missing the mark’. No matter what your faith beliefs are, I think that most folks would agree that we miss the mark fairly often.

It makes sense to me that if we take the opportunity to accept our daily missed opportunities and missteps; figure out how to do better, ask our Maker, our universe, and ourselves for forgiveness and the chance to improve – we would better appreciate the gift of a brand, new day (Thanks for the title, Sting!).

The Sun Will Come Out Tomorrow

Henry, Wally, Larry and I all met around the Spring of 1966.  That was Rush time at New Paltz State University back then.  We have been friends now for about 60 years.  That is a good run as far as friendships go, and there are more brothers still in contact over these 60 long years.  It just happened that way.  Larry has been following the 3oldguys for a while now and makes good, helpful and thoughtful suggestions to us.  So his comment about tomorrow is promised to no one, hit home.  This is a hard topic for me to write about.  In the last year I have lost over a dozen old friends, colleagues, and acquaintances.  It isn’t unusual for people around my age to start seeing their community shrinking.  And every time it does, it reminds me that some day tomorrow may not come.  Those times usually strike late at night when I can’t sleep, and my mind is thinking about the person I just lost.  It isn’t a long lasting nor overwhelming feeling and is usually washed away by the necessities of living today.  But it does put things into perspective and acts as a reminder to all of our immortality.

Three years ago I had the honor or privilege of being present at the passing of one of my closest friends.  Sal had suffered for several months in the final stages of cancer.  His friends took turns staying with him during the day and Hospice came in at night.  Most of the time he was either in an induced sleep or under the effect of morphine or whatever is used to disguise the pain he was experiencing.  There wasn’t much conversation other than soft conversation with another friend who came that day.  I wanted to be there to make the day as easy for him as possible.  I made sure he was comfortable in bed, warm enough and had a class of water close by if he woke enough a take a sip.  We were told by the professionals that tomorrow may not arrive for him and a couple of us just wanted to be close by.  We were having a soft conversation when suddenly we realized the room had become very silent, almost unearthly silent.  We looked at each other, thinking the same thought that our friend had passed.  It was strange about the silence because we had almost been whispering and there were no other sounds in the apartment but we suddenly realized at the same moment that something was different.  We knew right away that Sal had experienced his last day.  The weird thing about it was that it wasn’t at all terrifying, it was peaceful and almost comforting to realize at that moment, without  any noticeable discomfort or upsetment the end had arrived.  We stayed until the authorities arrived and made the official pronouncement.  The tears waited til I arrived home and though of course they were tears of sadness, there was a sense of peace to it all as well.

Larry’s comment made me think that if tomorrow comes, it gives me the opportunity to evaluate yesterday’s errors, and if I have one more tomorrow I will have the chance to correct what I screwed up  yesterday.  As Annie said, “The sun will come out tomorrow.  Bet your bottom dollar that tomorrow there’ll be sun….”  There may be sun tomorrow somewhere but for others there may be no tomorrow!

What Larry Reminded Me About Time

The saying “tomorrow is promised to no one” has never been unfamiliar to me. It’s often linked to a line delivered by a character played by Clint Eastwood and echoed in the life and legacy of NFL great Walter Payton, though its roots stretch back much further, even to biblical teachings. Still, words remain just words—until something brings them to life.

Our friend Larry understands that distinction. More than understanding the sentiment, he seems to be living it.

I’ve often spoken—and written—about the importance of living in the moment. In theory, it’s a powerful antidote to fear, stress, and uncertainty. In practice, it often escapes me. Too easily, I let the least important things—those that are simpler, more appealing, or immediately gratifying—consume time that should be reserved for what truly matters. My sense is that Larry is choosing differently, spending more of his time focused on what endures.

As a grandfather, I find myself reflecting on all the things I once overlooked or dismissed—lessons that now feel essential. I think about how best to pass that hard-earned perspective on to my grandchildren, even while knowing that youth carries with it the illusion of endless tomorrows. When you’re young, time feels abundant, and urgency feels unnecessary. Short of staging an intervention, all I can do is plant seeds—through conversation, through example, and perhaps through reflections like these. Larry’s words have stayed with me. They serve as a quiet but powerful reminder: every moment matters. We don’t need to wait for life to confront us with a crisis to start living as though it does.

“Live as if today were your last day, learn as if you were to live forever.” –Mahatma Ghandi

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Can Old Dogs Learn New Tricks?

Two things in my life have always been prominent- routines and people.  My occupations always provided the routines I needed to feel comfortable and happy.  Maybe that was because my childhood tended to be a little chaotic and unpredictable.  My career for 35 years was totally predictable.  As an elementary school teacher my life was segmented into carefully defined segments.  From 8 AM til 4PM I was in my classroom from September til June.  It was predictable, secure, comforting.  I knew where I had to be and what I had to do. For 35 years I lived that comfortable existence knowing what to expect….most of the time.  It was manageable, delegated time where I knew what my job was and what had to be done. My second career as an innkeeper of a small bed and breakfast, which lasted for another 14 years was also very regimented.  Early to rise to prep breakfast, serve the guests as they came down for breakfast.  When breakfast was finished it was clean up kitchen time and then on to the guest rooms to change sheets, clean bathrooms, vacuum and put in a load of wash.  Then for an hour or two I could relax.  As guests began returning for the day, I would make dinner reservations, and schmooze by the fire in the evening as the guests returned from dinner.  It was predictable and fun, and sharing a glass of wine with people from all over the country and sometimes from around the world was very exciting.  Both careers gave me the predictability and routine I needed.  That certainly addressed the routine I needed but both careers also gave me the people I needed tp surround myself with.  During my first career I went home to an equally predictable home, predictable in its unpredictability, but my wife and I always could talk to each other about what was going on in our lives and when scary thoughts woke you up in the middle of the night there was always someone there to calm me down.  After I retired from teaching, and we were divorced the routine of the inn provided a lot of that comfort simply because of the time it took. up.  Then suddenly,  Air BnB came into Vermont and our small businesses were unable to compete.  That is when I began to realize how much I depended on routines and people.

I was about to turn 70.  Actually at 70 the job of cleaning was getting too much for me.  It was hard work but I enjoyed it.  Several trips up from the basement daily forced me realize I could not keep doing that.  I decided to move back to the town where my kids were, and forced to live alone.  No schedules to keep, no clearly defined roles to follow, and days without someone to even talk to.  I filled my days with having lunch with former students, going out for drinks with other retired colleagues but always coming home to an empty house.  That’s when I got my dog.  It was an attempt to make up for the loneliness in my house and honestly it worked to a large degree. I talk to him, watch tv with him, have small talk in bed with him at night.  The usual things dog lovers do with their pups.  He was a rescue from the SPCA but in all fairness I think he rescued me as much as I did him. I think in the past I told the story of how he saved my life so I will spare you the details by not repeating the story.  Anyway, days are long, hours pass slowly when you don’t have an itinerary to follow.  And of course, my house began to have problems as all houses do and without someone to run the information by with, I had to depend on my own knowledge and intuition to do what I thought was best.  The dog didn’t help much with that!  And sometimes just the quiet in the house was overbearing and so loud I would lay on my bed and cover my head with a pillow.  I am sure some of you understand.

Out of desperation and 10 years of living alone on the spur of the moment I joined a dating site. Had no idea what would happen and after several contacts of younger men in the 30’s and 40’s who really liked what I had to say and wanted to desperately meet me if I could only help them out and send them money for a ticket to return to the US we could do that.  So that idea soon lost its glitter!   And after a while forgot I was even on it still until one day someone from nearby and only 3 years younger than I contacted me. I heard from other dating site people that you never invite a person to your house on the first meeting- always somewhere public.  Very good advice!  We met for lunch at a great little restaurant  in Coxsackee.  We hit it off immediately and agreed to meet again,.  Now here is where the problem comes in!  What the hell am I supposed to do?  I don’t know how to date, I am 79 plus years old.  What routines do i follow?  All of a sudden, my regulated, organized life got thrown into a blender.  What is the schedule going to be,  His routines are totally different from mine.  I probably shouldn’t do this!  All these crazy thoughts poured through my mind. One night shortly after we met, I was home and in bed with my dog telling him about this guy, and we decided if he liked my dog he was a keeper.  So we continued to meet for lunch and eventually we went to each other’s houses and discovered we had so much in common that it was becoming easier for us to be with each other.  Scheduling was difficult because there was no framework to follow. Sometimes it even was decided on the spur of the moment. Spontaneity was never my strong suit.  I didn’t know how to do spontaneity, but it is becoming easier and actually I am finding it enjoyable.  So perhaps it is never too old to teach an old dog new tricks. It is certainly a change in life style that I am actually enjoying now.  I guess it is because I am too far away from that childhood of craziness and chaos.  Oh, by the way, he and my dog are best friends.

I am developing new skills out of necessity.  Two old men living alone for several years.  Old guys set in their ways wanting to combine lives. I am working on the skills of understanding and patience.  He had his life all arranged and I had mine. Suddenly we have to adjust.  This requires patience and acceptance! It isn’t just two individuals cohabitating .  There are other people involved now-  Blending isn’t always easy but if this is to work it is a necessity.  Not only families have to blend but pets have to adjust! Arrangements have to be made that acknowledges both families. I am not sure how this works but working together to make a workable arrangement is the plan. We are both old, set in our ways, but the prevailing need is to make the blending of lives work.   This is going to require a new set of skills and compromises we never before experienced.  And I haven’t even mentioned the financial, legal, and inheritance issues it brings to the forefront!  Fingers crossed, prayers, vigils, time will tell!

Walking Two Old Dogs on One Leash

George writes about the exciting but challenging changes ahead as he and his new partner thoughtfully discuss the negotiations and compromises required for cohabitation. Patience and understanding are nothing new to these seasoned travelers on the road of life, but the “new tricks” may involve a deeper level of emotional intelligence—especially as they navigate newly shared living arrangements. I’m betting “Old Dog George” will not only learn these new stratagems but be happier for it.

Successful relationships require each person to understand and accept the other’s traits and behaviors. As I’ve found in my relationship with Teresa, they also require an ongoing movement toward each other. By that I mean not expecting her to change to suit my ways, but instead working with the behaviors that challenge me—adapting where I can and respectfully explaining when I can’t.

Sometimes this helps us both feel accepted and understood. Other times, simply stretching and being more flexible beyond my firm (dare I say rigid?) approach to daily habits actually makes me less stressed and much easier to live with. Go figure! In doing so, I often find Teresa meets me halfway without my even asking—a total win-win.

None of this is easy, George. But with mutual respect—and a clear sense of why you’re choosing to meet these challenges together—there is every reason to believe it will work. One other thought: two people who have spent years living by their own rules may occasionally need time apart to refresh and recharge. What that looks like is different for everyone, but discussing it up front might provide a helpful option down the road.

Your piece prompted me to reflect on my own experiences, and I offer these thoughts simply as friendly considerations. Wishing you both a wonderful journey.

“You are never too old to set a new goal or to dream a new dream.”

– C.S. Lewis

Old Tricks

George writes about navigating the details of a very new relationship. Hen brings suggestions for a relationship that has found its groove. I guess I’ll reflect on a very old relationship!

Linda and I have been married for nearly 57 years. By now, we have stored in muscle memory all  the moves in our choreography. And yet, we aging dancers have to adjust our steps to accommodate lifestyle and physical changes. In conversation, Hen made the point that learning new tricks is a lifelong process – he’s right! However, I wonder if it is just as important to not forget old tricks we’ve learned!

I could make the case that Linda and I have had years of practice to adjust to one another – and that’s true. We are trusted partners. However, that statement glosses over the importance of recognizing age and stage challenges — and how that alters our expectations of one another. It is an “old rookie” mistake to let a relationship fall into rigid patterns and behaviors. I believe that fine tuning can be helped by three old tricks:

  1. Have your partner’s back – Always. Full stop. Be the most dependable ally.
  2. Make room. Make room physically — but mostly in your heart – to allow the other to grow and change. Make it okay for the person to not be their best all the time; to allow for exploration, false starts and achievements.
  3. Step back and see the humor: When conflict arises, fight earnestly, but end with humor. After all, no one will remember this moment in fifty years (at least at our age – adjust the timeframe as needed).

The details of change will fall into place if these guiding principles are used. Since I’m good at bad analogies, try this one: life is like roller derby. Do you remember when this was popular on tv in the 50’s? I used to watch somewhat horrified as a kid as jammers and blockers battled to contain one another as they whizzed around a roller rink. The points in each “bout” were gained by launching one team’s skater past all the obstacles and ahead of the pack. Well, there are times when life is a scrum – elbows are thrown and bumps are encountered. I’d like to be one of the partners that helps to launch my partner ahead of the pack. In the process, we may have some miscues, but we can work them out.

As Linda sometimes says: “I’m always thinking of you, Wal – but sometimes my thoughts are not nice.” We laugh and skate on!

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Choosing Trust

Lately, I’ve been wrestling with the concept of trust — or rather, the lack of it. It feels as though I need to question everything and exercise caution at every turn. This isn’t just a personal observation; it’s a response to a very real and documented pattern. Recent data from 2025 and early 2026 suggests that trust in the U.S. is currently defined by a “descent into insularity.” While trust in specific institutions like local fire departments or small businesses remains high, trust in the national government and mass media has hit historic — or near-historic — lows.

In the past, communication felt authentic. At worst, you might be lured into a timeshare seminar with the promise of a “valuable gift” or pressured to buy a vacuum you didn’t need. Today, the stakes are much higher. Our phones and inboxes are rigged with minefields of digital traps designed to steal personal data and empty bank accounts.

“Truth” has become increasingly subjective. I grew up in the era of Walter Cronkite, when facts felt like solid ground and the words of officials carried weight. Now we operate in an environment of blame, exaggeration, and purposeful misinformation. Even when I hear something that echoes my own beliefs, I find myself questioning it. I no longer take anyone’s word as immediate truth — and that includes media figures and government officials alike.

To add insult to injury, I’m noticing a quiet decline in my own physical and cognitive certainty. When names slip my mind or my agility falters, I realize I’m losing a bit of trust in myself as well.

So what can I do?

Rather than spiraling into hopelessness, I’ve been looking for a way to live constructively in this time of change. Researchers who study trust generally agree that a few basic behaviors help build and rebuild it:

Clarity and intention in your words: Say what you mean and mean what you say.
Consistency and reliability in your actions: “Walk the talk” by ensuring your behavior aligns with your words.
Openness and integrity: Create an environment that genuinely welcomes differing opinions.

I’ve come to realize that the more I wish for others to act with integrity, the more I must embrace being integrous myself. This means being vulnerable — admitting when I’m wrong, acknowledging what I don’t know, and accepting that every person views “the truth” through a unique lens shaped by life experience.

There is a reciprocal nature to suspicion: the more I mistrust others, the more likely they are to view me as untrustworthy. It becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy. So what if I flip that dynamic? What if I choose to trust first while remaining open to validating what I see and hear? By leading with a “trust but verify” mindset rather than a “defend and suspect” one, could we create a more confident and reliable environment for everyone?

When we discussed this topic during our Zoom meeting, Wal asked whether this reflection would change my behavior. I don’t think so. Despite trusting others and sometimes being let down — even cheated — over the years, my instinct remains the same: I choose to trust first, unless someone shows me they are not trustworthy, rather than withholding trust until it is earned.

I will likely be more skeptical. I will verify more of my decisions through additional research. But I will continue to begin with the belief that what I hear from others is true — until proven otherwise.  It’s a risk, certainly.  But in a world of growing isolation, it might just be a risk worth taking.  

What’s your relationship with trust?

“Trust is the glue of life.  It’s the most essential ingredient in effective communication.  It’s the foundational principle that holds all relationships.”

– Stephen Covey

A Matter of Trust

Trust – a noun we own and a verb we perform, but usually don’t examine. Trust is like the air around us, part of our essential environment. It is the glue that shapes relationships and societies. Trust fosters cooperation; lack of it leads to isolation and contention. According to psychoanalyst Erik Erikson, trust is one of the first lessons that we need to resolve as infants and is the basis of further healthy development.

Hen raises the point that the ever-expanding channels of information vying for our daily consumption contain wildly varying statements of “truth”. What should we trust? Accuracy is suspect and reposting of derivative or second- hand information is promoted by algorithms designed to gain your attention. Are there “trusted sources” any longer – would we trust an AI Walter Cronkite, for example? Hen’s conclusion is to trust — but verify. 

After all, trust has always been conditional. You may know individuals you would trust with your life, but not trust to build a nuclear reactor. Our dollar bill says “In God We Trust”… and perhaps that is the only unconditional bedrock of trust. However, I suspect that many people are more inclined to trust a politician’s pledges, rather than the promise of God’s plan. 

I think the choice to trust is simpler than a choice to mistrust. If you don’t believe that, try this simple test: which approach requires more energy, a) trust or  b) trust and verify?

Discussing this post with Hen and George has made me realize that I trust because I am sort of lazy. I just don’t want to take the extra steps to verify or directly examine the facts. I’d rather concentrate on some pleasurable activity, than qualify a set of data. I also confess that once I accept a premise, it saves me time and energy  in evaluating new information. The worse part, is that I’m likely not alone in this disposition – that’s why our news feeds are filled with items which support our previously established opinions.

It seems to me that much of our decision-making about trust happens in the background — like the autonomic nervous system. That’s why we can make quick decisions (see Blink: The Power of Thinking without Thinking). Essentially, we’re ‘trusting’ our gut. I keep thinking of that refrain from Billy Joel:

“Don’t wait for answers
Just take your chances
Don’t ask me why”

But Hen elevates the process of trust to the foreground – and he’s right to pay greater attention. In this confusing multiverse, you have to be a reliable steward of the information around you… and to practice being a trustworthy source for others.

Trust Me…..

Trust is an immense topic!  Trust can have several meanings and scads of nuances.  In the words of 3 American philosophers, Ronald Reagan is quoted as saying, “Trust but verify!” when referring to our position in the international community.  Mr Kraftowitz, my Junior High English teacher always used to remind us that, “Trust is earned!” and Siri defines trust as, “A firm belief in reliability, truth, ability, or strength of someone or something!”  It is a give and take!  If we want people to trust us, we must act in a trustworthy manner.  We must stay honest to our word, live up to the goals we set for ourselves and share them consistently with the general public when dealing with others.  It seems simple.  When we want to trust others, they must show us that they are good to their word and consistently prove to us that they at least try to act in a way that is consistent with factual information.  When someone misleads us with information  regularly, trust is lost.  Excitement about conversations or events can often lead to misinformation because the verifying part is missing.  Verification sometimes is time consuming and downright hard work.  Our daily schedules are sometimes too hectic for us to have the opportunity to do the research that will verify our information.  This is all just common sense.

But we don’t always put our trust in other humans.  When I go out in the morning, I trust my car will start up, the heat will warm up my seat, my directional signals will blink when I decide to turn a corner and stepping on the brake will slow my car down and eventually stop if need be. We often put our trust in mechanical things that are expected to function as defined.  When I step in an elevator and press the button for the floor I am going to, I trust it will rise and stop at the assigned location because that is what it is entrusted to do.   We trust these things to work for us.

We don’t only trust other humans or mechanical things.  I trust my dog will bark if a stranger tries to enter my house late at night, or if he has to go out to do his duty.  Trust is shared.  He trusts that I will put his food dish down with his supper every day, because I have consistently done that for 10 years! He trusts that I will open the door when needed for him to go out and run.  Perhaps it is easier to have trust in our family pets.  They don’t seem to have trouble with truth as much as humans do.

Therein lies the rub.  Verifying is now harder than ever, at least for me.  Our country seems to have difficulty trusting what we hear in our newspapers and news programs.  Our leaders seem to have trouble with presenting themselves as trustworthy when they say something one day and completely contradict themselves the next.  They make promises to improve our lives and then ignore them and do the exact opposite.  Our faith and belief in what we are told is destroyed and trust is lost.  Unfortunately, in this day and age trust may be one of those virtues that dies a slow death while our means of verification become more and more limited.  Artificial Intelligence has contributed to our diminishing trust as well but that is food for thought for some other time.

Mercury Falling

I have been in a funk for the last couple of months. Call it winter blues, sundowners, or whatever, it started when daylight savings ended. I wanted to pull the covers over my head and hibernate. I’m not a napper – and yet Linda found me sitting up at the kitchen table, sleeping soundly at 5:30pm. Yikes. I don’t know about you, but it takes me another 30 minutes to get my bearings after waking up from one of those sessions.

Sting writes in Mercury Falling, about the “hounds of winter, they harry me down”. And that’s exactly how I’ve been feeling: under siege, no initiative.  In fact, this is the first year ever that we did not put up a Christmas tree… just lacked the motivation.

What the heck causes this malaise? At first, I just wrote it off as diurnal adjustment to greater darkness, but then I remembered warm summer nights, cool and clear,  with smells that carried on the breeze. I sure did not mind the darkness at that time of year.

Or perhaps it’s the cold. The northeast this year received an early taste of winter: a fair bit of snow and unseasonable temps. Yet, I have good memories of bright, sunny days cross country skiing and powdery snow. While winter is a bit more confining, outdoors is beautiful. I should take a page from Hen’s playbook and go outside more frequently – gather in those ‘outdoorphins’! Truthfully, I have as much activity as in summer, but it is all indoors: playing tennis and/or pickleball. It’s just that my activity level does decrease when the sun goes down.

Is it the evening news? Nah – the news is a downer all year long. Is it metabolism, tax season, holiday blues, aging? Maybe it is the barometer, after all. We’ve had a stormy season so far. Low pressure days just seem heavier. What’s your opinion?

In any case, enough is enough.  I am taking initiative to socialize a bit more. However, most of that activity takes place in daylight – I still have to rouse myself to go out at night for dinner or visiting. The NY Times suggested that when things seem oppressive: ‘move your horizons in’. Focus on closer goals, smaller tasks; practice self-forgiveness. This is the season of Hygge, right? Settle in, get cozy and don’t make unreasonable demands on yourself.

So, I have decided to focus on the “smalls” and close-contact activity: playing chess with  grandson Chris (who kicks my butt – but it feels good to lose to your grandson); thrifting  for electronic gear with grandson Alex (he was thrilled to find a Tandberg-Huldra radio and tuner – and I found old music cd’s which included a diverse mix of Boss Nova, Gregorian chants, Big Band, and Nat King Cole); and sharing Linda’s finds as she goes through old photographs. We both have been enjoying watching our amaryllis bloom over the past week. It is a pleasure to have beauty so close to hand. All of this has tended to elevate my mood.

However, the call of the bed still lingers and we’re rarely up past 10pm. I suppose that isn’t a bad thing. In fact, I asked my AI assistant which mammals seem to need the most sleep  – and there I was, right after the platypus and sloth! Can’t fight nature…

Now, you’ll read further to see Hen and George’s ideas. In fact, Geo’s piece was so bleak that Hen and I were really concerned; we reached out to him to see how we could help. George responded with an addendum and said that we shouldn’t worry – everything turned around because he is exploring a new relationship. That is certainly a way to cure the blues! So — What do YOU do to tame the hounds of winter?

Seasonal Adaptations

It’s not often that I hear Wal talk about being dispirited, gloomy, or despondent, so I take notice whenever he spends any time with those feelings—which is hardly ever. But for him to write about them takes it a step further in significance. After analyzing the possible contributors to his winter blues, he offers some thoughts on what might remedy—or at least reduce—them. Fortunately, it appears he’s finding some solace in his targeted actions. And, predictably, Wal asks what we think and what we do “to tame the hounds of winter.”

Here are some random thoughts about Wal’s topic:

Does this mean we all suffer some form of negative impact from the fundamentals of the winter season?

“Wintering” is a phrase used to describe “a period of retreat, restoration, and slowing down to survive an ‘inhospitable’ season.” But what if I react more negatively to heat and humidity—and to days that last until 9:00 p.m. when I like to go to bed? Perhaps this is more personal and situational than a universal syndrome.

Recently, I’ve become a snowbird—staying through late fall in Delaware and shifting south to North/Central Florida until early spring. As a result, my reactions to this discussion are shaped by not having to endure most of the typical winter issues faced by Wal and George, but they’re also influenced by memories of winter living for 74 years.  (Actually, I just booked a flight back to Delaware a week early so that I can be there for Winter Storm Fern and once more enjoy some time in the snow with my grandkids and friends!)

I’ve always loved the change of seasons and tried to embrace each one. I look forward to gardening and the rebirth of spring; more gardening, barbecues, swimming, and outdoor activities in summer; cool, crisp hikes on beautiful fall days; and the many times we gathered to go sledding, ice skating, or sit around our fire pit with hot cocoa and s’mores. Of course, not every day of each season is all fun, and each brings its own set of challenges. Wal mentions those of winter. Spring can be wet, muddy, and cold at times. Summer heat and humidity often limit my outdoor activities to the point that I sometimes long for fall—despite the shorter days and loss of greenery.

Enough musings. Here are my feelings about the winter blahs. They don’t impact me as much as they do some others. I enjoy being outdoors in the cold as long as the windchill isn’t in the single digits or below. I use the shorter days to rest more and to focus on indoor chores and activities I put off during other months. I read more, watch more TV, and lately spend more time on photography and writing.

That said, I like Wal’s ideas of socializing more, being easier on myself, and setting shorter goals. They do seem to provide an uplift—even if I’m not particularly down. And I’ve recently reactivated my iPhone Academy photography course and am enjoying spending time learning and practicing picture-taking. (Below is my response to my first assignment, which focused on shooting a photo with focus in mind.)

“So, you see, while some perceive winter as a festive time when their worlds are blanketed by the purity of snow, others feel they are being suffocated by a literally colorless existence.”
—Jessica Blaszczak, 10 Things You Didn’t Know About Seasonal Affective Disorder

Year-Round Blues

Fall has always been my favorite season.  I love the colors of the flowers in Spring and Summer but Fall means new beginnings for me.  For 68 years it meant the start of school and new beginnings, new people and a kind of loving warmth I never felt in the warmer months.  There is something about the crispness of the days, the cool nights spent in front of a nice fire in the fireplace.  The crackling of the burning wood, the rustling of drying out leaves on the trees in a slight wind were sounds I welcome and enjoy.  It was always special to me!  When I was younger I also enjoyed the snow of the winter, snowball fights, snow men and snow angels, and of course the promise of snow days not only as a kid in NYC but as a teacher in Ulster County.  Snow days were God’s gift to overworked teachers and we were as excited as the kids were when they were called.  Back then the winter was exciting, it didn’t present the challenges that it does today to an aging body.  Shovelling snow is drudgery today for the 80 year old.  I say this as I just came in from shoveling my walks and driveway for the third time in two days.  But that isn’t what has me down.  Wal suffers from the winter blahs and I understand that.  The shorter days, being locked inside for most of the months, difficulty travelling or even walking around outside is intensified with a layer of snow over the possibility of hidden slick ice making the season difficult to navigate through. And that can certainly limit enthusiasm and activity to help lift our spirits.

Unfortunately, for me, it isn’t the season that led to my malaise.  My retirement from both of me careers- one of 35 years teaching and the other of 15 years of innkeeping, came at a time when my relationship was collapsing.  So at a critical time in my life I was without a purpose and alone.  Two very difficult conditions to deal with individually but worse when combined.  At first, the change of seasons was unnoticeable.  The lack of having purpose was very pronounced.  I didn’t know what to do with myself, how to occupy my days or how to participate in things that I used to enjoyed doing anymore.  The loneliness became almost unbearable.  The things I used to enjoy didn’t excite me  because I enjoyed them because I did them with other people.  Living alone for the first time in my life was new to me and I didn’t quite know how to do it.  Purpose is important to a fulfilling life without depression.  As time went by I began to realize I wasn’t enjoying things like I used to.  When you do fun things or when cool things happen to you the first thing you want to do is to share it with significant others.  I realized I had no one to share those times with so those events didn’t take on the significance they normally would have.  It wasn’t just the difficult times we go through in life that weights us down alone but the good things don’t feel the joy that they used to for me.  I wake up sometimes in the middle of the night with an unexpected ache or pain and I normally would wake my partner  and tell them what I was feeling and I would be reassured that it was probably nothing and we would deal with it in the morning, easing my concern.  Now those imaginary horrible ailments fester cause there is no one around to quell the scary thoughts that our minds imagine.

So for the most part, I have the feelings that Wally is experiencing mostly all year long.  I have an incredible dog who tries to comfort me with a tongue licking and it helps but can’t soothe away my concern with gentle words, though his cuddling next to me helps and he can always tell when I am struggling!  I do look forward to the approaching Spring, though it isn’t approaching quickly enough. Then I can plant in the gardens, enjoy the colors and the smell of the earth, and the  warmth that the season brings.  Along with the colors I pray it will bring remedies to the malaise I feel all year long with the hope of new friends and relationships, and a sense of purpose to a life that has been struggling without both for too long.
Wal is lucky!  He will get relief when the days lengthen and the seasons change, and his daily activities return to normal.  I look forward to perhaps finding the things I am lacking and  hope springs eternal!

This is a post script to my response to Wal’s Winter Blues.  When I wrote my response to Wal’s piece I had just met a person and had no idea how or if our friendship would progress.  Well, I am here to tell you that I believe my eternal malaise will be lifting shortly.  Not just shortly but it has already begun to lift.  The person I recently met has lifted my spirits immeasurably!  We share a great deal in common.  Our view of the world is in synch, we laugh at the same things and worry over the same issues our country is facing.  We both love animals, even our issues are similar.  I suddenly have someone I can call in the middle of the night if needed and he can do the same. I feel free of the worry and concern I have lived with constantly since retirement.  I don’t feel alone anymore!  The physical weight of living alone has been shed and I see a much brighter future ahead.  Time will tell, but at least now there is the promise of a happier future, the sadness and worry has been lifted and maybe Wal and I can both celebrate with the approach of spring and say goodbye to the Winter blues!