Uncle Walt

{ February 4, 2010 @ 6:33 pm } · { coping with Schizoaffective Disorder, sources of inspiration }
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For my last grad class we are reading classic poetry and I happened upon a poem by Walt Whitman called To a Stranger from his masterpiece Calamus. After reading it for the first time, it didn’t really grab my attention, but after discussing the poem as a class and being enlightened by other English minds–the poem definitely resonated with me.

Coping with my illness hasn’t been easy, sometimes I feel like I’m doomed and I refer to my psychotic experiences as being part of my plight. The biggest hurdle I had to overcome early on was letting go of my past. During my rambunctious teenage years, I hung with a fast crowd and did fast things. I drank too much, slept too little and experimented too much. As a result, I was disillusioned and confused as a young man.

I realized early on in my recovery that my old friends, guys who still drink heavily, were in fact triggers and sources of stress that hindered my continued recovery. As a result, I cut ties with almost all of them. I don’t know if this was a harsh decision. I probably would have found a way to cope with having them around if I really tried, but the easy way out in this case was my way out.

I miss them. I’ve seen one or two of them on the street in the city at different times and was forced to completely ignore them. How strange that felt, for both of us if they in fact saw me too. I stopped calling them or contacting them and my only interaction with the old group of guys was at our ten-year high school reunion two years ago, and at a friend’s golf outing once a summer.

Then this poem struck me and it captivated the way I feel about these lost and fractured relationships. Whitman wrote:

“You grew up with me, were a boy with me or a girl with me,/I ate with you and slept with you, your body has become not yours/only nor left my body mine only,/You give me the pleasure of your eyes, face, flesh, as we pass, you take/of my beard, breast, hands in return,/I am not to speak to you, I am to think of you when I sit alone or/wake at night alone,/I am to wait, I do not doubt I am to meet you again,/I am to see to it that I do not lose you.”

A lot of my fellow students said that they thought Walt was creepy by writing all of this about a stranger, but a few felt that maybe he knew the subject of this poem. That was how I read it, that he knew the person he was writing about but had damaged their relationship so irreparably that he couldn’t even bring himself to interact with him/her.

I have dreams where I’m walking through my old high school cafeteria and I pass a table that is occupied by all of my old buddies. I look at them, they look at me and I just raise up and hand and say, “hi,” and then walk off. Is there still a connection? Is there still a bond between some of us, any of us? Has time and my psychotic past damaged the relationships irreparably? I don’t know the answer to any of those questions.

The only way to find the answer is to try to rekindle these ancient connections. I think about coming forth to the old guys with everything I’ve been through, my run-ins with the law, my multiple trips across country, my peculiar behavior, but what good would it do? I still have to sit at bars with them and stare at my glass of water while they pound Vodka and Red Bull. I still have to stand idly by while they pick a fight with the guys standing at the pool table. I’m not that person anymore, nor will I ever be.

So my contact with the old guys is through my words on this page. It is an inhuman contact, one that once was but will probably never be again. How sad that makes me. I think of them like Uncle Walt does his stranger; we once were companions but now mere faceless memories.

A Big Step

{ January 29, 2010 @ 7:27 pm } · { challenges in education, sources of inspiration }
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I taught my first lesson today and it went very well. The wife of a childhood friend of mine is an English teacher in Winnetka and she graciously gave me the opportunity to teach her seventh grade English classes today. I was a ball of anxiety during my drive north to the school. I had some things prepared but I didn’t know how I’d fair in front of the students. I was excited but at the same time extremely nervous.

I introduced myself and got right down to it. To my surprise, the students were well-behaved and willing to engage in a meaningful discussion. I tried to relate the topics to their real lives, so as we discussed SE Hinton’s The Outsiders, we talked about how the students’ felt to be privileged members of society. We talked about the luxury of having amazing resources at their fingertips in their suburban school, and we discussed how students their age from the city were faced with more dire circumstances when it came to their schools and education.

One student in particular related his experience growing up in Chicago and then the transformations that occurred since his move to Winnetka. He had an interesting and unique perspective that the other students did not enjoy. He expressed how thankful he was to have classes where there were accessible computers and desks. This student really struck me as an insightful and mature kid. He seemed hesitant to contribute and even a little uncomfortable when he talked, but everything that came out of his mouth was genuine and eloquent. I could tell that he was afraid his fellow classmates would judge him for being different from them, like adolescents tend to do, but he continually related his lived experiences with those of the Greasers and the Socs from the novel. It made for an excellent discussion.

When I met with the cooperating teacher following the class, she told me that she was surprised at the response I received from this particular student. She said that he usually sits silent through her classes and when he does draw attention to himself, it was for being goofy or off task. She was really impressed by the way he related to me and she said that he really seemed to confide in me and trust me as a mentor. She said sometimes boys tend to gravitate toward male teachers and show them a certain respect that they do not exhibit to female teachers. She said that some of these kids’ fathers are real assholes, all they do is work and they don’t spend quality time with their children. She said that some of the boys will see me as a father figure, not just a teacher.

I was glad to provide support for the student and I hope other students will trust me and confide in me in the future. It is such an empowering experience to be in front of a class and lead a discussion, I can’t wait to do it for a living. For the most part, over the last couple of weeks, my concerns about teaching have been reconciled with a few minor adjustments and changes in my mindset. I am now taking half of my Seroquel dose in the afternoon with my lunch which makes me less tired in the morning because of the dose reduction at night. And, I am starting to see myself as a professional following his dreams and passions. I will ease into teaching successfully because it is something I enjoy and really want to do, and I truly believe this. My experiences during my first lesson perpetuate my strong feelings about being an educator.

Listening Skills

{ January 26, 2010 @ 11:19 am } · { Uncategorized }
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So I haven’t written for a while. Things have been really busy. I’ve been networking with teachers I know to try to set up interviews for next school year. I’ve also been knee-deep in reading for my final two grad classes.

Things with Jamie have been much better. She just celebrated her 30th birthday over the weekend and I surprised her with diamond earrings. Now, I’m sitting in a 7th grade English class, observing a friend of mine and I’m in excruciating pain. This entry is my attempt to distract myself from the throbbing pain in my mouth. Sunday morning I woke up with a severe tooth ache. I called my dentist and I’m seeing him this afternoon, he thinks I need a root canal, yay! Not fun. My dad gave me some Vicodin which I have been popping since last night. I have to be careful because I do have an addictive personality and these pills are awesome. The only relief I have found after two days of extreme pain is the three hours after I pop one of these pills.

My dad and I met with Dr. Levinson on Saturday and something very important came up. We discussed Jamie’s recent comment that when she tells me of a problem, she wants me to listen and not analyze and critique. Levinson said that it’s difficult since that ’s how I’m used to processing things, especially since I started therapy. My dad admitted that he does the same thing with my mother. He said my mom’s therapist tells him that he can’t play armchair therapist.

Levinson said the best method of consoling your spouse is to just listen. I will heed his advice since Jamie recently told me that she wants me to be her husband, not her shrink. I have to get out of the habit of assessing, passing judgement and evaluating and into the habit of listening and comforting. I think I try to analyze because I know I don’t have the answers. When Jamie tells me that she is mad at her dad for leaving, I don’t know how to react or what to say, so I put on my therapist hat which is clearly not what she needs. Old habits die hard but this is one I have to beat into submission for the betterment of our marriage.

My Insensitivity

{ January 12, 2010 @ 11:45 am } · { Uncategorized }
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So adjusting to married life has been just that, an adjustment. I’ve been preoccupied with preparing for my student teaching and applying to schools for the fall. Jamie on the other hand, has felt a void caused by the absence of wedding preparations that were consuming her life prior to our wedding last month. She doesn’t have a beautiful celebration to look forward to and it has left her feeling a bit empty inside.

The honeymoon stage that we both expected hasn’t really happened which has left us both a bit concerned. Luckily, neither of us has any doubt that we married the right person. There has been no second-guessing of our decisions to marry, it’s just, we both thought things would be a bit more happy at this point.

We were sitting in the car on the way to a movie last week and Jamie decided to open up. I was lost in thought about all the applications I have left to complete when Jamie said, “I’m mad at my dad…”

“For what?” I asked.

“For leaving us,” she said, referring to her father’s untimely death two years ago.

And then, still thinking about my own shit, I said, “You just have to make the best of things and get over it.” It was the most insensitive thing I have ever said. I always tell Jamie I want her to open up more, a habit I have had a lot of practice at since I started therapy years ago. And she finally confided in me to help explain why both of us have felt a bit of a strain in the relationship in recent weeks, and I shot her down, just like that. I made her feel like she wasn’t justified in mourning her father’s loss, or continuing to feel saddened by his passing. I know enough about healing and dealing with loss to understand the mourning process lasts an unspecified amount of time. People can still feel a great void in their lives ten years after the passing of a loved one. Like I have told Jamie, there is no timeline or road map for coping with the loss of a family member or friend.

She looked at me wondering who this insensitive jerk was that was seated next to her. I have prided myself on being supportive and understanding in her times of need, but for some reason, this time, I was emotionally absent. I can’t use stress as an excuse. Even if I have been stressed out about my impending teaching career, I have to make time for Jamie and her needs.

We finally talked about that night in the car and brought some closure to the situation. I admitted to her that that was one of the most insensitive things I had ever said or done and I was sorry for my indiscretion. She said it wasn’t just that situation that was bothering her, she feels as though something is keeping her from feeling truly content and she can’t figure out what that is. At the end of our most recent conversation, she said that she might try to talk to someone professional about her issues. I told her I thought that was a good idea. I am a firm believer in the benefits of therapy since I started my own six years ago. If she could benefit from discussing her problems with a therapist, I think it will make our honeymoon stage more like it’s supposed to be, a honeymoon…

A Day with Dad

{ January 10, 2010 @ 6:04 pm } · { sources of inspiration }
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It’s becoming increasingly harder to post with school and work starting up again, adjusting to married life and getting applications together for next fall but I did spend a day with my dad last weekend and I thought I’d share some of what went on.

We started the day early Saturday morning at an indoor golf facility in Buffalo Grove. I drove up from the city and met my dad at the house, we loaded up the clubs and headed out to the golf dome. It was a pretty neat setup, they create these bubbles in the winter around the suburbs so that avid golfers can continue working on their games through the winter’s snow and subzero temperatures.

My dad has tried to convince me to take a lesson with his golf pro and I finally agreed to let the guy look at my swing last weekend. I have always prided myself on being a self-taught golfer, and a pretty good one at that. I picked up the game when I was a teenager and taught myself how to play through repetition and just getting out on the course regularly. Last summer I scored my lowest total ever, and 82, just ten over par. Not bad for a self-made golfer. Well, so much for my pride.

The pro watched me swing twice before he interjected and made some changes. I was having trouble with my driver since I got my new clubs last summer, so much trouble in fact that I kept the club in my bag all summer and teed off with my three wood. Well, after a short tutorial and film session, Chris, the pro, had me striking my driver straight and for distance, it was amazing.

After the lesson I thanked my dad for making me do it. We went back to the house afterward and I spent the afternoon on the couch watching football. Jamie was planning on meeting me up in the burbs later in the day for dinner with her mom. So on the couch, my dad and I got to talking. It seemed like we talked all day long. I told him (actually retold him) the story about how Jamie and I met, (he forgets sometimes) and we talked about his years growing up with an overbearing father, my Papa Sam.

He explained that he always tried to go easy on us growing up because of how imposing and difficult his father was. Then he explained how he ended up finding my mother. I always wondered how my mom and dad got together. When they say opposites attract, they must have had my parents in mind. My dad is an easy-going, laid back guy and my mom is as tense and high-strung as they come. My dad grew up without any semblance of religion and my mom grew up a Shomer Shabbus Jew. I always wondered why my mom didn’t seek someone who shared her religious beliefs. But my dad explained that religion was in fact important to him when it came time for him to choose a mate.

As I said, his parents were extremely secular, he wasn’t Bar-Mitzvahed and neither were his two sisters. His older sister, my aunt Sue, was the black sheep of the family. She seemed to do things to get a rise out of my Papa Sam. When she started dating and went off to college, she dated as many non-Jews as she could find. She would bring them home and my father explained that Papa Sam was not only indifferent towards them, he was flat-out rude and abrasive. It made for some very tense moments in the house.

Although my grandparents didn’t ever stress religion to my dad and my aunts, nor did they ever celebrate any holidays, it was very important to Papa Sam for each of them to marry within the faith. My father watched the way Papa Sam treated Sue and her many boyfriends and vowed never to make things as uncomfortable as they were when Sue would bring her guys home. My father also felt the need to make his father proud, and dating Jews a way he could fulfill that need.

So when my dad was in Med School, he heard about my mom through a friend and pursued her, and the rest is history. It was very enlightening to know that my parents didn’t end up together because of some fluke blind date. It was fun to compare my father’s quest for love and marriage with my own. My brother and I have different takes on religion and faith but one thing we both plan on doing is raising our children with religion in the home to help prevent moments of uncertainty and tension.

Intermarriage is at its highest point and it seems hard for young adults to find mates within their own religion but bringing faith and religion into the home is a way to counter the growing trend. After the day with my dad, I was glad that I could look at my parents with a little more understanding and acceptance of their history and origin together.

Brothers

{ January 2, 2010 @ 5:41 pm } · { coping with Schizoaffective Disorder, symptoms and warning signs }
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I just saw an intense and very disturbing movie called Brothers starring Toby McGuire and Natalie Portman. The storyline was gripping and the acting was superb. It was about a Captain in the Marines who has to leave his young family behind as he is sent to fight in Afghanistan. While overseas, he encounters a problem with insurgents and is ultimately taken captive. Back home in Minnesota, his wife thinks he is dead and she tries to move on with a great deal of support from the Marine’s brother. The climax builds as the captain eventually returns home only to suffer from post traumatic stress symptoms, turning on the family that he loved and trusted with all of his heart.

The themes in the film were especially poignant to me considering the reality that many individuals, after experiencing a psychotic break, can suffer from similar post traumatic stress symptoms upon attempting to return to functionality. I explained this fact to my wife as we sat in the theater, discussing the movie well after the curtain was drawn. She asked me if I ever suffered from similar symptoms and delusions following my psychotic break in 2003, and I told her, luckily, that I had not.

I feel extremely fortunate to have transitioned to a long and meaningful recovery immediately following treatment for my diagnosed illness. I told my wife that the events surrounding my break which included breaking into a house in West Texas and spending several nights sleeping on the concrete floor of a holding cell were extremely traumatic, and could have resulted in long-lasting symptoms after I tried to reenter civilization. But they did not. Why I took to the treatment so well and completely is inexplicable. The staff at the psychiatric rehabilitation center that I have been attending since 2004 says that I am an anomaly. Some professionals feel that it has been my support systems that has worked so incredibly well in my favor, that is to say a supportive and understanding wife, and knowledgeable and concerned parents… For whatever reason, I have responded to medication and therapy extremely well and continue to move forward with both. The biggest thing that I have yet to accomplish regarding my recovery is substantial full-time work. I am embarking on that challenge this fall when I interview for full-time teaching positions following graduation from my current Masters program.

It was last week during my therapy session that I reflected on another movie I saw recently, Up In the Air, with George Clooney. I tried to relate Clooney’s character to the type of professional I hope to become. Although he was the anti-hero in the film, playing a character with no regard for the emotional well-being of the many people he hurt, he knew his role in the work place and carried out his role as a professional who fires people for a living, extremely well. He knew how to think on his feet and attack each potential problem with confidence and sureness.

My therapist thought that I was missing an important message from the movie which was that Clooney’s character was never one to be admired, and that the man behind the suit and tie lacked all moral fabric and empathy for the people he regularly hurt. I tried to explain to my doctor that I wasn’t identifying with his professional position, just with his competency and great ability at what he did for a living.

Two things are really important to me as I embark on a teaching career: one is that I know what I am doing and that I am good at what I do, two qualities I felt Clooney’s character exhibited throughout the film; and the other is that I love and am passionate about what I do, qualities he failed to display at any point of the movie. So part of me did identify with his character, and the other part of me failed to see in him a person who was truly content with his life’s work, which is extremely important in my world.

I haven’t written in a while because nothing has really come up. I’m still planning on downloading pictures from my honeymoon so that you can get a sense of the mind numbing adventures we had in Maui. I’m adjusting to married life and it hasn’t been completely smooth sailing. I’m still getting used to calling Jamie my wife and trying to get my mind around the fact that she now has my last name. I thought that the step to move in together, which we took over a year ago, was the biggest step we’ve taken thus far. I figured that our marriage was a legal thing and not much of a transition or adjustment, but it is both of those things. I’m getting used to thinking as a couple and transitioning to our growing identity together separate from my firm individual identity that I have developed over the last 30 years. We are a unit and have to form our own ideal identity as husband and wife. The important thing though is that our lives as newlyweds have been filled with a great deal of love and a lot of laughter.

Unstructured Time

{ December 23, 2009 @ 6:11 pm } · { coping with Schizoaffective Disorder, symptoms and warning signs }
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I’m adjusting to my first week back to snowy Chicago. It has been an adjustment. After you spend a week in paradise, getting back to reality definitely takes its toll. And the adjustment has been especially difficult for me so far. I am 3/4 of the way through a six-week break from school and my graduate assistant position in the Education department.

When I have a lot going on, which is all the time other than winter and spring break, I am functional and busy. I work hard in my classes and diligently complete tasks on the job, but now, nothing is really going on. That’s not to say that I don’t have a lot to do, because I do. I have five books left from a 15 book list given to me by my cooperating teacher for the spring. When I student teach after the winter quarter, I am teaching an independent study where my 7th grade students can choose any of a list of 15 books to read and report on, so I have to have read all 15 by that time. Also, I am taking the last of my state exams on February 13th before I can receive my teaching certificate and I have a list of 30 plus schools that I have to apply to before my student teaching in March. So there is a slew of thing I can and should be doing with my time.

But the idea of winter break has surfaced in my brain which leaves me with heaps of unstructured time. Rather than getting up early, going to work on my applications and plowing through books on the book list, I roll out of bed past noon, watch re-runs of Sportscenter and knock out about 50 pages of my book before even thinking about the other things I have to do. I think this is a product of the Seroquel hangover I feel on most mornings, but it is more a result of the loads of unstructured time I have when I don’t have to be at school or work early in the day.

I’ve talked to my doctor and we are going to try to space out my doses of Seroquel so that I’m not taking all of it before bed. Hopefully that will help a bit. I used to look forward to my cup of coffee each morning, but I have developed a reaction to the acid in coffee so I am no longer able to drink it when I wake up, which makes the prospects of rising early and functioning at a high level even harder to accomplish.

Today was the first day I got up early and got things done. Yesterday and Monday were disaster days where I watched the same episode of Sportscenter like five times. I got a lot of reading done, went to the gym, which always makes me feel good, and went shopping for things we needed in the apartment.

I hope I can start to make better use of my time during the remaining week-and-a-half of my break. I know the stuff will eventually get done, but I will feel much better about it if I”m proactive and working on tasks early each day. When I waste away on the couch, I don’t feel good about myself at all.

New Limits

{ December 20, 2009 @ 11:29 pm } · { Uncategorized }
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I just got back from my honeymoon and it really was a week in paradise. While we were in Maui, I had no real worries of concerns, I just tried to enjoy each day to its fullest, and with Jamie by my side, how could I not? It was the perfect honeymoon, not just because of the 85 degree weather every day, (although that helped), but because my new wife pushed me to new limits.

I have this thing about heights and when Jamie suggested that we coast down a 10,000 foot volcano, I was apprehensive to say the least. But we did it together, (see previous post and picture). Then a few days later when she wanted to go ziplining in the West Maui Mountains, I thought she had truly lost her mind.

Not only did I have to overcome my fears, but I had to reason through this new, death-defying adventure. What I came up with was, when else will I have the opportunity to set a new limit and take on a new and crazy adventure with Jamie by my side? We have settled into a happy existence in Chicago, where we live and work, but with this comfortable existence is a bit of monotony and no real ventures from the ordinary. So we were in Maui and I was discovering this new life with my new wife, so I thought, what the hell, you only live once!

And so Jamie and I ascended a treacherous mountain in West Maui, scaled a platform and pushed ourselves out over the mystifying valleys and lush tree-tops into the unknown. I never would have taken on this adventure if it wasn’t for Jamie coaxing and encouraging me all the way. And it was spectacular. To have the blue sky above, the ocean off in the distance and the cavernous valleys below my dangling feet was a rush I have never felt before and will never forget.

I love Jamie for many reasons, but the one reason that kept emerging during our honeymoon was that she encourages me to set new limits, and makes me feel that with each other, we can overcome and accomplish anything. These are physical challenges indeed, but every time I talk to her about my growing nervousness and apprehension for my future job and the student teaching I am beginning in the spring, she is in my corner, right beside me like she was from the peaks of the West Maui Mountains. It’s not just the physical challenges that we have overcome that makes our relationship special, it is the mental and work-related challenges that we will take on together and get through as a couple, a team, a undestructable unit.

We were flying home from Maui on Thursday night and we had a layover in Dallas where we deplaned for two hours in a desolate airport. Jamie quickly fell asleep at the terminal which left me with some time to think and reflect. I was also surrounded by sleeping soldiers, dozens of them coming home for the holidays. It was truly heart-warming to see these brave souls head home for happy home-comings with their friends and families. At a moment of deep contemplation while I sipped a warm Starbucks at 4 in the morning, I felt blessed–blessed to have shared a wonderful honeymoon with my new wife, and fortunate to be protected by young men and women who are brave and courageous enough to take on enemies across the globe without loved ones physically by their side. Thank god for their sacrifices and let’s hope that the decade to come is a peaceful one.

Married Life

{ December 12, 2009 @ 1:25 am } · { coping with Schizoaffective Disorder }
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Well, I tied the knot last Sunday night. The wedding was beautiful which is a testament to Jamie and all of her hard work and tireless planning. Every last detail was carried out to a T, and the wedding and celebration was a night we will never forget.

I know I was ready for this momentous step in our relationship. Never for a second did I second-guessed my decision to spend the rest of my life with Jamie. I do notice my ring finger a little more though. I have never wore rings so the bling on my finger feels a bit heavy and out-of-place. Other than that, everything is great! I also notice others’ rings. I find that I look to see if people I run into have wedding rings on. If they do, I wonder what their wedding was like. Was it as special and unforgettable as ours?

I am posting from Maui. We are on our honeymoon. I found this week, when I am talking to someone else and referring to Jamie as my wife, it is also taking some getting used to. She still signs her receipt with her maiden name because she hasn’t changed her credit cards yet. So I guess it will take some getting used to on both our parts.

The honeymoon has been spectacular. As always, Jamie pushes me to limits I never thought possible. She allows me to explore adventures that previously I would shy away from. Today, for instance, we saw the sunrise from the summit of the largest dormant volcano in the world. From 10,000 feet, I took in a wonder that made me appreciate nature in all its glory. When you see the Hawaiian sunrise from 10,000 feet you forget about everything else. For a moment, you are suspended in time and place totally captivated by what you are seeing which makes all your troubles and concerns an afterthought.

After the sunrise, we biked down the volcano at break-neck speeds. The trip was 30 miles and we did it at about 25 mph. Again, I would never have taken on such an adventure without Jamie coaxing me to do so and challenging me along the way. It was wonderful.

I am enjoying life and am a very fortunate man to have found such an incredible wife that encourages me to explore new heights and accomplish new and challenging feats.

Birthday Thoughts

{ December 4, 2009 @ 7:14 pm } · { challenges in education, coping with Schizoaffective Disorder, sources of inspiration }
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Well, today is my birthday. I am 31 years-old. I don’t feel any older. After 27, they all feel about the same. I’m now counting down the hours to my wedding which is taking place on Sunday night. This time next week I will be on a beach in Maui for my honeymoon. I can’t wait.

Today was really a day of great reflection. Jamie and I spent the night at her mother’s and I woke up early to the sounds of Jamie’s and Donna’s voices in unison singing ‘happy birthday’ to me. It was funny and heartfelt and I enjoyed it. I’m really looking forward to getting married because I am inheriting a great family. Donna has welcomed me with open arms since the first time I met the family and I can’t wait to call her ‘mom.’

I took this day to reflect on my 20’s and think ahead to what the rest of my 30’s will be like. I’d have to say that my 20’s was a decade of tumult. I spent the first five years floating around without any real responsibilities or goals. The first half of my 20’s could be described as dreams unmet or unfulfilled. Partly because I was young and partly because of the onset of my illness, my dreams were grandiose and pollyannish. I aspired to be a film writer in Hollywood without any real training or effort. And while things might happen that way for a very select few, I had to curtail my dreams to more realistic endeavors as the decade wore on.

After spending some wasted time in my Great Aunt’s West LA mansion trying to make it as a screenwriter, I came home to focus on other ambitions. I thought I would be a firefighter for a while and then settled on Grad School about the time my medication and therapy finally took effect. For the most part though, during my 20’s, I bounced around from one idea to the next without ever really finding a passion or connection with any one dream or aspiration.

Then, when I hit 30, things started to come into focus. I was dating Jamie for a while and realized that I wanted not only to spend the rest of my life with her, but also to start a family with her. I decided that my talents and skills would be best served in the teaching profession, inspiring young children in their academic growth and development. So, for the first time in my life, I had focus and direction.

As the 20’s were years of tumult, my 30’s will be years of great change and variation. Already, within the next 2 to 3 years, I will finally have a career, a new wife and hopefully a child on the way. How could life change any more for me? So how do I prepare for all this? This is a question that keeps my up some nights. There is no blueprint or road map that can guide me on the journey on which I am about to embark. I just have to keep my head and take on each challenge as it comes. I know this sounds like a broken record because I have made reference to confronting challenges in the same way in previous posts, but it’s really all I can do.

I have my brother and brother-in-law as good role models as I watch them take on their challenging fatherly duties when we all get together. If I can be the kind and selfless father that they have become, I will be in good shape. So as I confront this decade of great flux, I hope only that I remain healthy both physically and emotionally so that I can enjoy all life has to offer as a new husband and, one day, a proud and confident father.

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