Have you seen that commercial where the kitten walks out soaked from inside the family’s Thanksgiving turkey? It was disturbing to me although not in ways obvious at first. If you haven’t seen the commercial it opens with the quintessential family seated for Thanksgiving feast; mother, dad, two kids and grandma. While the conversation centers on mom’s attempt at grandma’s famous stuffing the shot cuts to turkey shining brightly in the center of the table.

Well then! All of a sudden its sides start to move like it’s almost breathing! Such crazy intrigue from these crazy advertising types! No one seems to notice this save for the little girl who watches open-eyed as a tiny little kitten pet (I’m guessing it’s theirs) walks out from the bird’s cavity soaking wet presumably as testament to how good retread grandma’s filling really is. Though how a tiny little two pound pet ate six pounds of 160 degree stuffing is beyond me. This cat is not dead!

Then the little girl says something like, “That’s nasty” which of course it is NOT because the little kitty, alive, just walked out of a 160 degree turkey. That’s COOL! Now if the family had cut into the turkey only THEN to find the little kitten, well THAT would be nasty. So, after the girl utters her emotionless line, no one else says or motions or moves or nothing. Nothing; nobody says nothing! Then they look in the phone book for pizza to make an advertising point or something advertising clever. And who even uses a phone book anymore?

The point is, and this is why quintessential. They did absolutely nothing. Here they were faced with something, (if not horrific then perhaps unsettling or at the very least the kind of unusual that might spark a little water cooler conversation), that deserves a LITTLE emotion or a holy shit or pass me the gravy. Something! Give me something America. But sat there they did. Maybe they were waiting for the YouTube video . . . to comment upon . . . and share . . . and laugh . . . or otherwise emote.

In the old days if kitty eats turkey - kitty gone. AND the child whose responsibility it was to feed the kitten that day - he gone too. But life was simpler then; the advertising better . . .

Maybe we are too overwhelmed with the tragedy of the day, huge, seemingly insurmountable, issues which are presented to us through conflicting lies so that we may better “understand” (and when the lies become conflicting it may truly be time to shut it down). The systems themselves we do not trust and the system owners we trust less. We tune out helpless. We blame this seasonal apnea on the turkey but it is really much more than that.

My wonder is with the osmosis at a closer level; the effect on family friends community and work. Of course I see caring and sometimes a great deal. But I also see the uncaring and sometimes a great deal. ‘News’ is principally to blame for the ‘great deal’ and the world will be better when it is gone having been replaced by content washed through a magical filter squeezing out the slanted conspired lobbied bullshit then injected with truth, enlightenment and occasional wonder. (This machine represents a great business opportunity so if you know someone who’s good with tools and currently out of work . . .)

The world is filled with people trying to (and in some cases actually) making a difference. So perhaps there is hope on the macro level. I do believe in the all mighty power of the un-mighty and the indomitable spirit of the human. But doesn’t it seem more and more that there are a lot of stupid people running around; something is rubbing off and we need to act. There are opportunities to coach that caring back but we must be aware and we must be willing.

It takes no great effort to open a door for someone (even not older than you!). It is considered good manners to politely correct someone who is uttering total bullshit particularly if it is incessant uttering. And if you cannot politely tell them, well, then just turn off the teevee. Share your lunch with a coworker or better yet with someone who use to be a coworker. They may need it and the company more than you can imagine. Read stories to a kindergarten class. Take an elderly to their parked but hidden car in yours when you see they can’t. (And don’t even think of doing that when you see me wandering around the local grocer’s lot because I am not elderly, yet, and I have NOT forgotten where my car is I just like looking around sometimes – you know just to see what’s new . . . you know to . . . what was I talking about?). Oh there it is.

Coaching is about listening; to others AND yourself. So let’s all pay attention just a little bit more inside and out. Remember that it’s a season of Thanks as well as Giving. Try a little of each with those you know and those you don’t.

As you gather around the family table remember the spirit of the season and that while it IS considered polite to correct the utterance of bullshit, when it comes incessantly from your drunken brother- in-law it is probably best to follow the wisdom of the quintessential-ad-family; keep your mouth shut, do NOT look at one another, show no emotion and have another glass yourself because while that never leads to trouble it does make drying the cat more fun.

Jim

http://www.linkedin.com/in/jimreece

This morning I was filming some workout tips for another blog that I maintain. Interestingly enough (or perhaps ironically enough, as I don’t know how totally interested you will be) I managed to twist my back just a tiny bit and now I am bent over double in pain. Why was it ironic, you may ask. I was doing a piece on working out and talking about avoiding injury during a work out. Nice, huh?

The injury occurred before I began filming. I was moving the bench that I was going to be lying on for the lifting portion of the demonstration. Unbeknownst to me my son had a few dumb bells on the floor by the bench and when I went to move the bench there was an extra 25 pounds. An unknown obstacle and an unsuspecting force…and down I went. *groan*

Why do I share my pain? Not to gain sympathy, although that would be appreciated, but to say, we never know from one moment to the next what is going to hit us. So if you are putting things off until tomorrow, remember that tomorrow may not come, or it may find you in an entirely different state of being.

One of my favorite quotes from Janis Joplin is “Tomorrow never comes man. It’s all the same f*ing day” There was something in there about cats, too, but I’ll leave that to Janis. She was a person who embraced life and didn’t give a crap about what people thought. She did what she thought she ought to do, and if you didn’t like it, well, too bad.

She also had a lot of issues, but I’ll also leave that alone. The point is my back spasms, a temporary thing, could have just as easily been something different. Situations arise and some of them we have no control over, so you know, don’t put things off until tomorrow. It’s all the same day, and we need to take care of things now.

This is rambling a bit, and that I’ll admit, but if there is something you need to say or do, take care of it. Appreciate what you have and what you could have if you would just reach out and bridge that gap, hold out a hand to someone that you know and let them know you are there, and you care.

Appreciation and gratitude are two of the biggest pieces to the mindset of success.

There are a many transitions in our lives.  The first birthday, the first bike ride, the last diaper (not in that order necessarily). However, there is one that affects both the transitioner and the transitionee. 21.

21 is the birth of the adult. Well maybe not the birth but at least the bar mitzvah. The coming of age. We can die at 18 in war (16 at home if we include driving) and vote as well. But the full regalia comes at 21. Kill someone and it’s capital murder (unless unless you are 11 and black then the age thing is less relevant). But it remains a line in the lifeline sand. 21.

It might be the one time in life when you realize both fallibility and infallibility at the same moment. I can drink until I die and oh my god I drank and think I may die . . .   (Your dream-home bathroom is never the same). And as parents we relive our own experience of 21 and think, “oh my god isn’t that cute” while at the same time thinking they could die. Parenting is hell in heaven.

As we search for the balance between the giving and the forgiving we learn that all we have done has some effect. They are different than they were. Having to navigate the left and the right – the up and down – the inside and the outside – the wrong from the not so wrong – they learn.

It’s like that with us as well. The model of learning doesn’t change but our ability (willingness) to does. Life is a lesson for those who chose to learn it.

I had the opportunity to be reminded of certain important life things the other night. By an eight year old. Jason. My wife along with a dear friend (the boy’s mother - in the midst of a nasty divorce) went to gather another dear friend off the bus from New York; a friend who is most likely headed to federal prison for some sort of embezzlement scheme (”love the sinner hate the sin”). At any rate you’ll hear no more blog related to the story of those three; ’cause that ain’t blog stuff - that’s my book!

Back to the other night. It was my pleasure to provide the adult supervision required (babysitting does not seem an appropriate term for a person Jason’s age). Jason is bright and engaging as you might expect of an active boy his age. It is made a little more noteworthy though as Jason has recovered completely and remarkably from a life threatening brain tumor as a toddler. (I don’t offer this in a ply for sympathy - only a little note to keep in your pocket to retrieve when you think you are having a bad day.

There was some anticipation for my arrival as I had purchased a little gingerbread house kit that we could build together. The idea of me building something carries a bit of anticipation made all the more uncertain if you have ever seen one of my domestic maintenance projects. But build we did.
Neither one of us had built one of these before and we honestly had quite the time doing it. (I would highly recommend the one with “over one half pound of Willy Wonka candy!” The boxes promotional hype did not disappoint).

Now of course being eight one cannot just sit and chat while waiting the ten minutes for sugar cement to dry so off to the garage for a quick lesson on street hockey and the strategies behind three hockey sticks all of different size. It mattered less that none of the strategies really seemed to make any sense - to me - than the clarity in which they were offered. And the great caring he had for them.
Time to get back to the Gingerbread house and a bit more construction. Then off to his room for a quick demonstration of Detroit hockey prowess on PlayStation. Really good. I am old and do this day cannot fathom how one gets their fingers going so fast in such a coordinated way. A blur. Like a bad plasma screen.

So back and forth we went working on the house, playing hockey, eating candy, licking icing (really disgusting after awhile), playing hockey, building the house. Trying desperately - and successfully - to get EVERYTHING in to the allotted 2 and 1/2 hours before bed. We even got the tree un-netted. Truly a testament to his drive and focus.

And during the entire time - and I mean the entire time - he was into it. The new and the familiar. He was into it. Now I have always been a believer in the wisdom of children but there are things that I have - obviously - forgotten. And one of those things - a very important thing - is the passion for the familiar.

You are like me in that the new is easy fun. Give me a challenge! A new project! Or god forbid an idea should pop into my head! We’re going to visit someplace new? Holy S***! That gets the blood going. But the familiar? Passion infused routine? A bit oxymoronic. At least on the surface.
Remember when the now familiar was new? The ONLY difference is time. That was then this is now. She is the same person. He is the same man. Grown and different but the same. And those are the same kids. Friends. Hobby. Job. Church . . .

The point is that the things that are now - sometimes too - familiar were themselves once new. And there was that excitement and there was that wonder or passion or whatever it was that you experienced when you experienced it for the first time. Time to go visit. So right now take a deep breath. Now pick something familiar and the hot point of its original wonder. Exhale. Now a quick plan to recreate.

Me? I see a lovely candlelight dinner in a brand new 12 year old dining room with a new wife and 2 new kids. I couldn’t be more excited.

Jim
http://www.linkedin.com/in/jimreece
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