Throwing Apples

I have had several events lately where I was treated unfairly, and rather than back down (which is my normal habit) or else I’m getting extremely mad and from flustered (which also happens) I got angry, but in a very assertive and firmly. I said things with a level voice which were absolutely true, and forcefully delivered. I really said some people in their place! I surprised myself. Last week, I got a call at work from somebody who should be giving me free services. We had had a slight miscommunication, and he was blowing it out of proportion‘s, and denying me services from his office. I called him up, to try to resolve the situation, and he actually gaslighting me! He said I had said things that were not true, and he was barring me from services for this reason. I told him that I had not said that, I did not appreciate him putting his interpretation of my words in place of my words. He would need to reconsider his actions, because my next action would be to send a formal compla...

Processing all of this all of the time is taking its toll. These are not pleasant thoughts, and my parents are (honestly) not pleasant people to think about. At least, not when I am focusing on their worst attributes and moments. Right now we have a three year old who is quite demanding emotionally and physically. He is the most active child we have ever had. It takes focus, patience, and concentration to give him the attention, affection, and care that he so desperately needs. We don’t always get it right, and the reality is that we can’t get it right all the time. Sometimes, he just has to play on his own. Sometimes (as a last resort, never as a first option) he has to cry it out, and we just can’t meet all his needs. And that is OK. However, sometimes, I find myself shorter of patience than I should be. Sometimes, I find myself needing space, when I should have more left to give my kids. A few times recently, when trying to get all the kids ready, one of my children did som...

I am having more troubles with a coworker at work. Yesterday, for the second time, he significantly messed up the product, and I (as the deliveryman) was left looking quite foolish. We had to dump the product, costing the company money. Ultimately, that will be our bonuses at the end of the year.  It was an extremely emotional event. I actually sobbed as I dumped the product out. I called up the boss, and told him in a very minimalistic way what had happened. I took responsibility for what I had done, and tall only the bare minimum of what Kim had done. Why did I do that? As I thought more about that event, and the last time that we had a problem, the mistakes he has made started to pile up in my mind. And I realize that he is putting me in danger, and his lack of quality control makes me look bad. Perhaps putting my job in danger (although so far, they are not blaming me as I am just training). And yet I have a very hard time mentioning anything to coworkers or the boss a...

As I reflected more on the post, “ When a Child Falls Down the Stairs ,” I thought about the fact that even as a very small child, who had just gone through a potentially life-threatening event (falling down the stairs) my dad did not react in the way a normal parent would have (anxiety, concern) but laughed at his baby son, leaning upside down against the wall on his head. He told this story over and over. It was like a family joke.  I began to realize just how unhealthy my father was. Is it possible that he is a psychopath? A person who feels no sense of moral duty? Or is he simply very disconnected from the feelings of others, as is typical of narcissism? I thought briefly but intensely of the fiery cauldron of rage that was in him, when my older brother’s first wife left him (denying my father of his grandkids ). I have never seen anyone possessed by such hatred, while he fought in every way possible to win the kids back through the court system. As I thought of these...

Good morning, Ishmael, I'm out of town now, having just finished at a pastor's conference and now with my daughter and her family for the weekend. I wanted to just let you know that I'm reading the blog posts as they are published and just read your latest now. Though parts of these posts don't feel new, as I have seen some of these feelings and events in other things you have shared with me, I want to tell you that I'm feeling (some of) the pain you are working through and understanding more of your journey and the healing you are looking for. Thanks for including me, and thank you for taking these things head on.  I pray for reconciliation for your heart; not just a workable relationship with your dad, as that may not be realistic for you, but I picture you coming home to your  Father as the son in Luke 15 to wide open arms and full restoration as a man with resources and riches to manage and to steward. I hope that I, and other men, can at ...

The Hotel California Feb 21 As I was thinking more about emotional incest (see post, “ The Hurt in her Eyes ”), I thought of the song, “Hotel California.”  On a dark desert highway, cool wind in my hair Warm smell of colitas, rising up through the air Up ahead in the distance, I saw a shimmering light My head grew heavy and my sight grew dim I had to stop for the night. There she stood in the doorway; I heard the mission bell And I was thinking to myself 'This could be heaven or this could be Hell' Then she lit up a candle and she showed me the way There were voices down the corridor, I thought I heard them say Welcome to the Hotel California Such a lovely place (such a lovely place) Such a lovely face. Plenty of room at the Hotel California Any time of year (any time of year) you can find it here Her mind is Tiffany-twisted, she got the Mercedes bends She got a lot of pretty, pretty boys, that she calls friends How they danc...

I just had a conversation today with a coworker (Kim) who was raised in dysfunction, and seems to be raising his child in much the same way as I was raised. He shared several anecdotes today of some harsh discipline he gave his young child. laughingly, he said, “you are probably judging me, but I thought that was a really funny way to handle the situation…“ Actually, I was kind of judging him. I was thinking, “this is exactly how you were raised… And exactly how I was raise. And here goes another generation…” Then, all the way out, he said, “please excuse me. I want to call my son.”  I had heard him call his son before. He is very tender and affectionate. Lots and lots of love. So how does the same guy exude both of these? Very severe discipline, and extremely warm love? What is going on? Instantly, my mind jumped to the family dog. My dad talked often of our dog (whom we all loved dearly) and about how to train a dog well. He also spoke often (with disgust) of tho...