When I was a kid, I loved to play and hated to work. I suppose I never grew up. Or maybe somewhere along the line the meanings and labels I attached to play and work got messed up.

I watch my kids now, particularly my son who gets criticized by his mom and sisters (understandably) because of the time he spends playing computer games (currently Call of Duty 4 and World of Warcraft). I love gaming myself so I’m not so quick to criticize, but I too worry about the impact of him spending so much time on the computer.

Ideally, I prefer a balance for my kids. In addition to playing Ultima on my Atari 800XL, I spent a lot of my childhood playing outside in the wilderness. But my kids are growing up surrounded by highways and houses. They don’t have the miles and miles of open land to explore that I did. And in my small town all my friends were easily reached within a 30 minute. Their friends are separated by miles of heavy traffic. I’m not home during the day to structure their time and drive them around and I don’t have the money to send them to camps and/or enroll them in programs to keep them busy all summer. So where does that leave me? Where does that leave them?

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I was taught to obey God and Country, and I did. I followed rules to the T, for the most part (hmmm, to the T ‘for the most part?’). So I wasn’t perfect, but still, I followed rules, I feared rules, I lived by rules.

Back then, I adhered for two main reasons; God and my parents (I didn’t want to disappoint either of them). I didn’t question; I didn’t second guess; I accepted and lived them. I believed God was at the helm and of course, whatever he said I should do…obviously I should do.

Fast forward through me disappointing my parents in the biggest way ever (leaving the church). Now I no longer worry about letting God or my parents down yet for some reason, I still try and adhere to the laws of the land. I don’t speed…well rarely speed (and extreme speeding for me is 8 mph over). In fact, I still live many of the Mormon teachings even though I am no longer active with the church because I believe certain principals make my life better.

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I wrote this back in 2000. It is so comforting to look at how much life life has changed in the past nine years. I still struggle with depression but nothing like it used to be.

The marriage stayed in tact four more years after writing this entry. The aftermath and confusion of my divorce twisted my body, mind, and soul in ways that changed me forever. My life now, with a woman that is truly an ideal match for me, is like a calm peaceful morning following a night of thunder and lightning so close you can smell the burnt air. That storm ripped my house apart and I thought my life was destroyed. Now five years later, a new home stands testament to the healing power of Father Time.

My Crucible (November of 2000)

I look for a reason. Unsuccessful, I fall back asleep, wake up an hour later, and try again. Getting out of bed is the toughest part of my day. My job starts in the afternoon, kids are at school, and I only work three hours a day. I could sleep almost all day if I wanted.

I’m not tired, I’m empty. Crack open my chest you’ll find an empty hole. My belly button to my throat is an empty cavity where my spine dangles like the root of a tree searching for nourishment. There is nothing to feed it.

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Grades in High School took several years off my life. I stressed constantly about them. If I would have done my homework on time things wouldn’t have been so bad but I always put things off until the last minute or blew them off completely which turned me into a B+/A- student. This wasn’t good enough…yet I didn’t change my study habbits. As a result, I walked around with way too much stomach acid eating away at my insides.

It’s a shame too, because I love to learn and took classes that challenged me and that I would have enjoyed had I let go and freed myself to suck in knowledge. This behavior followed me through my first two years of College. Professor Allen Payne finally destroyed it.

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I get down on life sometimes. My brother just told me about his former co-worker and I feel lame for even thinking I’ve had it rough.

Two years ago his friend was making 90K a year as an civil engineer and life was good. Then his wife was diagnosed with breast cancer. Then the business folded and he found himself unemployed. To keep treatment for his wife, they have to come up with $1100 per month for COBRA insurance. They can’t switch insurance companies because nobody wants to pick up a client with terminal cancer. Things are not looking good for his wife, the Doctors are close to giving her X amount of days. He is still looking for work despite dropping his target salary to less than half of what he previously earned. They have five kids ranging from 9-19, the oldest of which is on a two year mission for his church.

I’ve heard a lot of hardship stories, but it that one hits pretty deep.

I don’t try to piss people off. In fact, I’ll hold my tongue more often than not in order to avoid upsetting somebody even when I should say something. But a few years ago I made a comment that really upset my manager. We were talking about my future and his plans for my career. He saw potential and wanted to help me maximize it. The problem was that I didn’t want maximized.

During the course of the conversation, I made the comment that I really only needed $30,000 a year to survive and didn’t care so much about money beyond that. I was more interested in a job that let me spend time with my family than one that promised promotions and big money. Apparently, my comment sparked several debates with the upper managers and they threatened to let me go. Ironically, however, they promoted me and I became one of them.

His argument was that employees who didn’t feel pressured for financial reasons were a weakness. The company lacked the leverage and power to control them in a way that was best for business. Employees can’t say “no” to a request to work the weekend or to attend a week-long conference, right? Well, when they aren’t leveraged they can. Although I said yes most of the time, there were some no’s…because they didn’t have the control. I didn’t feel locked into my job and I knew I’d be fine without it.

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I loved summer as a kid; I dread it as a parent. At least the out of school part. Not because I don’t want the kids to have fun and get a break from school, it’s because they get so freakin’ bored and I feel responsible. I don’t remember being bored as a kid. Was I? It seems like my kids are constantly bored and I’m trying to figure out what I’m doing wrong as a parent.

I grew up in a small town surrounded by friends. There was hill after hill of Utah wilderness to explore right out of my front door. My kids live in the middle of suburbia and spend most of their time stuck indoors because of the rain and houses that fill the horizon in every direction. In addition, I don’t know many of my neighbors…there aren’t five kids of assorted ages in almost every house in the neighborhood. As a kid, I played constantly…basketball, football, rode bikes in the hills, had dirt clod wars, hunted with bb guns, and even some Dungeons and Dragons. Sometimes we’d even pack up supplies and as many as ten kids (ages 6-13) would hike several miles out of town, make a fire, cook dinner, and sleep under the stars. Just us kids.

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I stumbled across this article about prehistoric man and it caught my imagination. The theory is that 70,000 years ago humankind almost ended. After 100,000 years of living in small tribes, harsh conditions cut our numbers to a mere 2,000. We declared ourselves a critically endangered species. The postulate is that we then united, ended the stone age, and have ballooned to a super race of 6.6 billion.

I want to know the rest of the story…to the point that my mind starts to create it. Perhaps one of the most charismatic, intelligent, and innovative human beings ever to walk this earth will never be known. We love stories about heroes who have saved the world…just look at our movies, novels, and legends. But outside of theology, there hasn’t ever been one soul responsible for saving the world from destruction. No Superman, James Bond, or Austin Powers. No one person can take credit for saving us all…right?

What if 70,000 years ago a sole man or woman inspired a people beaten by poverty, hunger, disease, and war to radically change their ideals. This person not only introduced complex unorthodox solutions to our demoralized ancestors, he or she also organized and rallied them to action. This hero inspired confidence like rain brings life to the desert, and we flourished and changed. On the brink of destruction, we altered our course and pushed into uncharted territory. Now look at us…maybe he or she is turning in their grave.

At the very least, it makes for an interesting story. I’ll put it on the list of novels that I’d like to someday write…

Harry Gorman not only had one of the best jobs I can imagine, he lived in the neighborhood of my dreams. Harry, Martha (his wife), and Captain (their dog) lived for many years in the African Bush. He was the caretaker on a large plot of land smack dab in the middle of Sabi Sands, one of the private game reserves in the Kruger National Park. But instead of a game reserve, this rugged landscape was the private retreat for a wealthy Australian who occasionally came and stayed in his modest home overlooking the savanna. The Gorman’s lived a mile or so away in their own simple, yet cozy, home.

Harry invited me on several occasions to come and stay in his guesthouse, a small rondoval a stones throw from his front door (in the picture). Days with Harry were filled with simple African meals cooked by his wife, drives looking for game in his landrover, and long conversations under the stars as lions roared in the distance. I would say this is my favorite place in the world, but it only lives in memory. Cancer took the Australian and his kids sold the land, a commercial outfit came in and built luxury accommodations to attract tourists, and Martha passed away. The last I heard of Harry was in a letter from his daughter. He wasn’t doing well and living in a rest home somewhere in Johannesburg. That was several years ago.

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Molly was a good dog and as you can see, well loved. We didn’t expect her to make it through the night and the kids were saying goodbye. Although this was several years ago, I’ve been thinking about pain today. I made the mistake of watching the video on the news of the eight teenagers that beat up a girl and video taped it. I couldn’t finish it. How can people be so cruel? This type of things weighs me down. In addition, two people I care about are in a lot of emotional pain right now and I hurt for both of them. At least that type doesn’t weigh me down like the other example. Pain caused by love hurts but pain caused by cruelty is toxic.

I grew up with the teaching that we live in the “lone and dreary world.” Religion often teaches that this life is the test and the good stuff comes later if you pass. A core Buddhist philosophy is that “life is suffering.” Birth is suffering, death leaves a wake of pain, and in between is more sorrow than sometimes seams bearable. But what would I be without pain? My pain has carved and forged me into the person I am today and for the most part, I like who I am. I wouldn’t trade my pain. But the thought of future pain scares me and sometimes I hold myself back because I’m afraid of what is around the next corner.

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