The Present is a Wall Between Yesterday and Tomorrow: A highly reflective look at 48 years of change
I turned 48 in early January. Usually, I am not capable of being reflective during the winter, but perhaps owing to the SSRI's and my subsequent ability to think more clearly, or maybe because Wendy suggested it and then initiated conversations on our daily walks three days in a row, I have for your perusal... 6 octals of Mikeness.
8 (10) — 1980
In my "Etch A Sketch" phase |
My teacher in Grade 2 was Mrs. White. I recall her as having grey hair and so, had the legitimate possibility of being old—as opposed to just seeming old (which everyone did). Mrs. White came off as quite stern to me. I can remember little other than that she was not a fan of me driving Matchbox cars under the tables during class time. I lived in fear of seeing her shiny, black high heels turn on the tile floor and click towards where I was innocently trying to entertain myself. She must have had something on the ball as an educator, because in that year, spent a few weeks blasting through 2 or 3 years of spelling primers. I do not recall her being frustrated as I rushed back to her desk over and over so that she could mark each unit test before I would race onto the next. Now that I think of it, in the battle between me playing imaginative, off topic games or doing school work, she may have come out on top.
Grade 3 started in the fall. I was in a split class of grade 3 and 4. I remember learning my multiplication tables quickly and eagerly and then helping several of the grade 4 students with some of the math they struggled with.
December was a big month. Our principal, Mr. Markowski, pulled me out of class one day. Not being used to going to “the office,” I was understandably nervous. He opened a green plastic garbage bag and pulled out a matted and tattered handful of fur and asked me to try it on. I thought it was sort of disgusting and it smelled funny. However, once I learned it was the costume of The Grinch and I was to steal Christmas in the school play, I got over my apprehension very quickly and threw myself into my very first headlining role. And what a meaty role it was. For starters, there was actual acting. I had to be very convincing of how rotten I was and then in a rapid twist ending, show just how good and loving I had become. I don’t recall doing any background research on The Grinch, but I certainly must have.
During this first Octal, my task as a human was simply expanding my world and learning some of the basics of what it means to be a human on this planet.
16 (20) — 1988
At 16, I still don’t truly recognize the humanity of the people around me and I don’t think well about my own thinking (metacognition). I will continue to be reminded of both these points for the next 8 years, which incidentally contain all of my high school and all of my university experience.
24(30) — 1996
At the beginning of ’96, I have known Wendy for 2 years and we have been married for 6 months. We are living in Rosetown during her first teaching contract. I work as a cook at a failing hotel restaurant called The Blue Baron. I worry that I am under-qualified for the job. If you asked me (after 18 years of formal education), I wouldn’t be able to tell you what I WAS qualified to do.
By the end of 96’ we will have moved to Meadow Lake. I will work at Ed’s Wholesale Groceries. I’m learning to grind hamburger, drive a fork-lift, and stock shelves. I think I am lucky to have the job. My boss, Eddie, can’t understand why someone with a university degree wants to work for him. I don’t think I am qualified to do anything else.
It has been an awakening to meet a person who is as strong, confident, and capable as Wendy. I am at the beginning of a long journey. I have trouble seeing value in myself, but Wendy obviously does.
I spend this octal solidifying what it took too long to learn: everyone thinks and bleeds and feels. They all are entitled to the same things as me… nothing. I am shedding myself of the belief that patience and play will get me through life in a way that makes me happy.
32(40) — 2004
We recently moved back to Saskatoon after 7 years in Meadow Lake. Leora and Anwyn have been born. They will turn 6 and 4 this year. Being a parent has changed me dramatically. The parts of me that felt that everything was about me have been beaten into submission by the realities of keeping other humans alive. I have made this family my purpose.
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| An Enduring Favourite Family Photo. Forever thanks to Brad Stover for the photo and helping my interest in photography. |
It is strange to me that coinciding with true empathy for others has helped me to see my own value. By no means am I all the way there, but It’s a good start.
I am learning to break large tasks and goals into parts in order to accomplish them in more doable steps. To that end, I have travelled to Italy, have run a marathon, and have been running my own daycare for 5 years.
40(50) — 2012
I’ve been climbing mountains, both physical and emotional. I’ve learned to scuba dive and visited Copan in Honduras.
I have started working at the Saskatoon Public Library. I am challenging myself this year by taking Drawing lessons from Jim and I am about to take my first storytelling workshop. The introduction to traditional storytelling and puppetry are changing my life. I have found a calling (outside of parenting) where I am not just capable, I am excellent AND I love it.
48(60) — 2020
Leora and Anwyn are both done school. Wendy and I have started working through what it means to be “empty nesters.”
A lot of the patterns of behaviour that have seen us through 25 years together have begun to break down. Previously, I was content to give (if not force) much of my ability to choose to Wendy. Increasingly I resent it. I resent it, but I don’t know how to do anything else. This is a recipe for a crisis of relationship and we both know it.
6 months ago, I went to a councillor for the first time in my life. Wendy insisted. I made what seems like the most ridiculous realization of my life since I discovered that other people were human. Are you ready? Planning is really important. Yup. I call it my JENGA realization.
Okay, let’s be fair. I knew that planning was important, but I didn’t realize that it mattered that I bother to do it myself. So I outsourced my planning. As Wendy and I divided up “jobs” and responsibilities in our marriage, I accepted cleaning the bathrooms and vacuuming as my jobs (just for example). In return I didn’t want to have to bother with the planning. I was pretty terrible at it, anyway. What I failed to grasp was this: planning is the beautiful dance of your life. And, I had left Wendy to dance alone. As it happens, planning your life is NOT equivalent to any amount of house chores.
Jenga stability means that your tower doesn’t fall. Things are static in your relationship. You don’t want things to change in your life (good or bad) and—barring a disaster—they won’t.
Jenga shape describes what can fit in the negative space around your pieces. Exotic shapes can allow for more and various things within your life. Maybe that is travel, work, children, adventure—anything that takes planning or resources to achieve.
Jenga Movement is the ability to change the biggest things in your life. The things that reside at the bottom of the stack. They are hard to move and when they do, they affect a lot of other pieces. I think of these as the biggest changes: starting a new family, exploring changes to your gender identity or expression, switching careers, loosing a child/spouse…
So my 7th octal will hopefully see me become a planner. I want to stack and arrange the pieces of my life with Wendy into a beautiful and crazy tower. I want it to have a lot of space in and around it. I want cantilevers and strange angles. And, I want to be able to move it to places that I haven’t even thought of yet
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