food for thought
So, I have been reduced to the expectant mother no sleep phase of pregnancy. One week to go and every cramp, ache, and pain could be a contraction at the beginning of a long series of painful moments. So, as I will always seem to be a night owl, after crashing at 9:30 (gods I'm getting old), I'm up at midnight. So I decide to read the book that I bought my man about a month back. So, after finishing by four am, I fought a really nice, mushy passage at the end that I thought I would share, both for those of you with no kids and for Rick, who definitely hasn't made it that far in the book. Hope you enjoy.
"After witnessing the tragic events of recent years, like many people I've felt a vague dissatisfaction with the sorry state of the world always looming around in the background of my everyday life. Maybe it was more like the past several decades. I'm not sure what the problem was; some people might say I was borderline depressed, which seemed stupid since I have so much to be happy about and thankful for. I'm a lucky guy in many respects: I have a great wife and three wonderful kids, and a career that brought a modest amount of notoriety and admiration, but I'm also one of these pathetic bleeding heart liberals who wishes the world could be like the perfect utopia of a John Lennon song. I'd read the newspaper every day and see stories about babies getting killed in drive-by shootings and innocent children caught up in any one of the armed conflicts around the world and before I'd finish my morning coffee I'd already be shaking my fist at God for creating a world like this.
"My career was another thing that gave me a lot of stress and dejection. Like many people, I'm not easily satisfied, and no matter how much praise or rewards we received, I heard the voices of the critic the loudest, and was always envying those who had more success than we did. I've read all the Buddhist books and tried to digest the idea that life is like a climb up a mountain, and that most people spend their whole lives hurrying through it, in an all-consuming effort to reach the top, eyes focused on the prize, when in reality we should go slow and enjoy the scenery, and be happy with what we have, the whole stop-and-smell-the-roses idea. But as much as you want to live that way, it's difficult to stay appreciate of everything you have in life when you're caught up in the daily grind, and you're always looking over the fence at your neighbor's grass to see what kind of turf builder he's using that keeps it so much greener than yours. Shallow, ungrateful, and pitiful, I know, but lie and tell me you don't feel this way sometimes as well; it's only human.
"Then the other day I woke up and my daughter said to me, 'Daddy, I want you to play with me today. You never play with me anymore.' It hurt hearing her say it, but it was true. I'd been so wrapped uo in my career and my pseudointellectual development that I'd become just a participant in her upbringing, breaking up fights with her sisters and refereeing at the dinner table, trying to get them to stay seated and eat their peas. I wasn't a terrible parent, but I wasn't a great one, either. So I told her we would set up the tent in the backyard and camp out. We went and got some firewood, my daughters brought their sleeping bags and dolls into the tent, and we played shadow finger games, told ghost stories, and roasted hot dogs and marshmallows all night. After they couldn't keep their eyes open any longer and finally nodded off, I sat there and watched them sleep and thought to myself, This is what it's all about. This is how I can truly be happy. I can't change the fact that men continue to resort to war to resolve their conflicts, or that people choose to kill each other over some strange idea of a benevolent God choosing sides in all this carnage. You can't always change the world. But I can make sure to play with my kids every day, and try to make them laugh and smile. It's easy to do. My daughters will remember the time I set the tent up in the backyard and we camped out together as long as they live. It was a day that we had a great time playing together and being carefree. It's our duty as parents to increase the number and frequency of these moments and memories. It doesn't matter how much money we have or what the critics say or what others think of me. What matters is if I had a great time with my kids. There are no rules on how to do it right, just real life. Everything else is out of my control." - Punk Rock Dad by Jim Lindberg, lead singer of Pennywise
"After witnessing the tragic events of recent years, like many people I've felt a vague dissatisfaction with the sorry state of the world always looming around in the background of my everyday life. Maybe it was more like the past several decades. I'm not sure what the problem was; some people might say I was borderline depressed, which seemed stupid since I have so much to be happy about and thankful for. I'm a lucky guy in many respects: I have a great wife and three wonderful kids, and a career that brought a modest amount of notoriety and admiration, but I'm also one of these pathetic bleeding heart liberals who wishes the world could be like the perfect utopia of a John Lennon song. I'd read the newspaper every day and see stories about babies getting killed in drive-by shootings and innocent children caught up in any one of the armed conflicts around the world and before I'd finish my morning coffee I'd already be shaking my fist at God for creating a world like this.
"My career was another thing that gave me a lot of stress and dejection. Like many people, I'm not easily satisfied, and no matter how much praise or rewards we received, I heard the voices of the critic the loudest, and was always envying those who had more success than we did. I've read all the Buddhist books and tried to digest the idea that life is like a climb up a mountain, and that most people spend their whole lives hurrying through it, in an all-consuming effort to reach the top, eyes focused on the prize, when in reality we should go slow and enjoy the scenery, and be happy with what we have, the whole stop-and-smell-the-roses idea. But as much as you want to live that way, it's difficult to stay appreciate of everything you have in life when you're caught up in the daily grind, and you're always looking over the fence at your neighbor's grass to see what kind of turf builder he's using that keeps it so much greener than yours. Shallow, ungrateful, and pitiful, I know, but lie and tell me you don't feel this way sometimes as well; it's only human.
"Then the other day I woke up and my daughter said to me, 'Daddy, I want you to play with me today. You never play with me anymore.' It hurt hearing her say it, but it was true. I'd been so wrapped uo in my career and my pseudointellectual development that I'd become just a participant in her upbringing, breaking up fights with her sisters and refereeing at the dinner table, trying to get them to stay seated and eat their peas. I wasn't a terrible parent, but I wasn't a great one, either. So I told her we would set up the tent in the backyard and camp out. We went and got some firewood, my daughters brought their sleeping bags and dolls into the tent, and we played shadow finger games, told ghost stories, and roasted hot dogs and marshmallows all night. After they couldn't keep their eyes open any longer and finally nodded off, I sat there and watched them sleep and thought to myself, This is what it's all about. This is how I can truly be happy. I can't change the fact that men continue to resort to war to resolve their conflicts, or that people choose to kill each other over some strange idea of a benevolent God choosing sides in all this carnage. You can't always change the world. But I can make sure to play with my kids every day, and try to make them laugh and smile. It's easy to do. My daughters will remember the time I set the tent up in the backyard and we camped out together as long as they live. It was a day that we had a great time playing together and being carefree. It's our duty as parents to increase the number and frequency of these moments and memories. It doesn't matter how much money we have or what the critics say or what others think of me. What matters is if I had a great time with my kids. There are no rules on how to do it right, just real life. Everything else is out of my control." - Punk Rock Dad by Jim Lindberg, lead singer of Pennywise