That title’s not about cancer. Although I am tired of cancer and the tube. It’s been almost a year and it’s a hard road sometimes. One day is harder than the next, and sometimes the inverse is true.
But what I am referring to is when we’re tired and faced with a challenge. The challenge can be anything. It could be a blown water pipe, a burnt turkey, a light that doesn’t work, a drippy oil-pan, a terse spouse, a cable service outage, a failing computer. It’s all part of life and life doesn’t ever give us a break as far as I can tell.
One example that readily pops to mind is when Deb and I are ready for crashing into bed and our kids haven’t been read to, haven’t finished homework, haven’t gotten ready for bed, and so on. You know, it happens. We eat late. We have swim team. We have basketball on the other side of town. Whatever the case, it happens: we’re tired and there’s still time required to be a responsible parent. But more important, there’s still time required to help our kids become responsible grown-up humans.
Sticking with the bed-time example, there are really three options I see here. Option one is to ignore the kids and let them work it out. They need to learn to sleep after all, even if it takes them a few hours. Plus I’ll be snoozing on the other side of the sound-proof wall and their teachers will have to deal with their outlaw attitudes tomorrow.
Option two is to ride herd on the herd, chiding and goading the little fuzzy beasts until they reluctantly get between the sheets having pushed back the whole way. That’s hard in the base case, and when I’m tired it’s a fairly good recipe for conflict.
The third option takes a little more time up front. We gather the furry little humans together, lay out a plan with actions, inactions and consequences, leave them to it, and then deliver on the consequences both good and bad when we return at a specified time. If all goes as planned, they will be in bed in a reasonable amount of time and we will get to square our own things away and then connect with them after they are in wind-down mode.
Of course there are shades of grey throughout those three options, but in essence, those are the broad strokes of the options I see. Each one takes differing levels of engagement and effort: option one, the least, option two, the most, option three, somewhere in the middle. Generally speaking, Deb and I try to do option three the most, ultimately reverting to option one when the behaviors are ingrained.
I haven’t seen the results of my life’s actions yet, but my guess is that option one would result in kids who become adults with very little discipline, wandering from rail to rail on life’s highway. I am guessing kids under option one stay out as late as anyone else regardless of tomorrow’s responsibilities. They would procrastinate until just before the final “S” settles in on RED ALERT CRISIS. Their fridge? Full of space. Their pantry? Half-full of expired Ramen. It’s very likely they would live within the normal distribution of human well-being, but it’s not the bet we are making with our kids.
Option two, again, according to my guesswork before I have really seen the outcomes, results in almost the same thing as option one. Whereas option one adults never had their own responsibility, option two adults only had responsibility through the lens of their parents. So when they're in the real world the parents stay overly engaged in their lives ultimately resulting in resentment in both directions. Did you buy milk? Did you lock the door? Did you change the oil? Did you pay the garbage bill? Did you eat healthy? Did you go to the doctor? Sigh. I’m tired just typing.
Option three? Here’s how I am hoping it works out: option three kids become responsible adults, thinking ahead, taking time to plan and execute, stay on top of projects, consciously decide what and when to eat, and generally live productive lives, even without me.
Who knows? I could be wrong. My big “Option Three Plan” could back-fire and I could end up with criminals. But my hope is that they’re the best criminals; the Kingpins of Crime. Kidding.
I have noticed that someone in my family has been really tired lately. Our lives are more stressful these days than ever. While I generally deal with the source of stress and then put it away until I must fully face it again, Debra deals with the source all day, minute by minute, second by second. We are Yin and Yang this way, and we help one another get through life through our complementary habits.
But Wednesday night was different. We had been to see the doctors in San Antonio for another opinion on my health status. Their opinion had more color but was not a prettier picture. Neither of us wanted to hear bad news but we got it, and at the end of the day we were pretty much demolished.
That night I remember Debra vividly behind the kitchen counter at 8:45, already 15 minutes past “in-bed” time for our youngest boy, while both boys were somehow high on adrenaline. I could see the tiredness in Debra’s eyes. I felt it myself. But together we saw the bigger picture.
Option one was appealing. We could just tell them to go to bed, leave it and then crash ourselves.
Option two would get them to bed more quickly, but neither of us had the inclination to ride herd on the Sugar-Pop Boys.
Option three took mental effort to articulate to the wee-tots and then execute, but at the end of the night it resulted in the boys taking care of themselves for the small stuff until they were in bed, and the two of us being able to swoop in for those important last thirty minutes of the day when we connect without the noise of homework, pictures, texts, squabbles, clean-ups, brushings, and whatnots. Further, it allowed us to help one another recharge while they calmed down.
I guess the bigger lesson is that we all get tired: tired of school work, tired of real work, tired of listening with the intent to understand, tired of spaghetti, tired of making conversation, tired of putting up with other people’s annoying behaviors, tired of a lot of things in life.
But if we stop and think for a second or five, the benefit of working just a bit harder for just a moment longer might be able to be determined. The tiredness can be shoved aside for a moment and the benefit can be nurtured to the surface.
It’s identifying the benefit when we’re so tired that can be the most challenging. That’s the real skill here. Once you see the benefit you just might be able to take actions that bring it to fruition.
This observation can apply to almost anything. I have personally seen it apply to my marriage and family, my work, my cancer, my dog, my friendships, my workbench, really just about everything. And I believe I have observed it in my close friends as they applied it to me, giving me patience when I was the challenge they faced.
I’m tired, sure. We all are. But it helps me to remember that almost every single encounter has a positive and / or negative outcome depending on how we engage it.
Pausing to see the possibility for the positive helps me push being tired out of the way so goodness comes from its challenges. It’s not easy. It’s not obvious. It’s not the first reaction either. But it just might pay off. I am betting my life on it.
But what I am referring to is when we’re tired and faced with a challenge. The challenge can be anything. It could be a blown water pipe, a burnt turkey, a light that doesn’t work, a drippy oil-pan, a terse spouse, a cable service outage, a failing computer. It’s all part of life and life doesn’t ever give us a break as far as I can tell.
One example that readily pops to mind is when Deb and I are ready for crashing into bed and our kids haven’t been read to, haven’t finished homework, haven’t gotten ready for bed, and so on. You know, it happens. We eat late. We have swim team. We have basketball on the other side of town. Whatever the case, it happens: we’re tired and there’s still time required to be a responsible parent. But more important, there’s still time required to help our kids become responsible grown-up humans.
Sticking with the bed-time example, there are really three options I see here. Option one is to ignore the kids and let them work it out. They need to learn to sleep after all, even if it takes them a few hours. Plus I’ll be snoozing on the other side of the sound-proof wall and their teachers will have to deal with their outlaw attitudes tomorrow.
Option two is to ride herd on the herd, chiding and goading the little fuzzy beasts until they reluctantly get between the sheets having pushed back the whole way. That’s hard in the base case, and when I’m tired it’s a fairly good recipe for conflict.
The third option takes a little more time up front. We gather the furry little humans together, lay out a plan with actions, inactions and consequences, leave them to it, and then deliver on the consequences both good and bad when we return at a specified time. If all goes as planned, they will be in bed in a reasonable amount of time and we will get to square our own things away and then connect with them after they are in wind-down mode.
Of course there are shades of grey throughout those three options, but in essence, those are the broad strokes of the options I see. Each one takes differing levels of engagement and effort: option one, the least, option two, the most, option three, somewhere in the middle. Generally speaking, Deb and I try to do option three the most, ultimately reverting to option one when the behaviors are ingrained.
I haven’t seen the results of my life’s actions yet, but my guess is that option one would result in kids who become adults with very little discipline, wandering from rail to rail on life’s highway. I am guessing kids under option one stay out as late as anyone else regardless of tomorrow’s responsibilities. They would procrastinate until just before the final “S” settles in on RED ALERT CRISIS. Their fridge? Full of space. Their pantry? Half-full of expired Ramen. It’s very likely they would live within the normal distribution of human well-being, but it’s not the bet we are making with our kids.
Option two, again, according to my guesswork before I have really seen the outcomes, results in almost the same thing as option one. Whereas option one adults never had their own responsibility, option two adults only had responsibility through the lens of their parents. So when they're in the real world the parents stay overly engaged in their lives ultimately resulting in resentment in both directions. Did you buy milk? Did you lock the door? Did you change the oil? Did you pay the garbage bill? Did you eat healthy? Did you go to the doctor? Sigh. I’m tired just typing.
Option three? Here’s how I am hoping it works out: option three kids become responsible adults, thinking ahead, taking time to plan and execute, stay on top of projects, consciously decide what and when to eat, and generally live productive lives, even without me.
Who knows? I could be wrong. My big “Option Three Plan” could back-fire and I could end up with criminals. But my hope is that they’re the best criminals; the Kingpins of Crime. Kidding.
 |
| The furry beasts (Will arm up, and Ben in goggles) with neighborhood friends. |
I have noticed that someone in my family has been really tired lately. Our lives are more stressful these days than ever. While I generally deal with the source of stress and then put it away until I must fully face it again, Debra deals with the source all day, minute by minute, second by second. We are Yin and Yang this way, and we help one another get through life through our complementary habits.
But Wednesday night was different. We had been to see the doctors in San Antonio for another opinion on my health status. Their opinion had more color but was not a prettier picture. Neither of us wanted to hear bad news but we got it, and at the end of the day we were pretty much demolished.
That night I remember Debra vividly behind the kitchen counter at 8:45, already 15 minutes past “in-bed” time for our youngest boy, while both boys were somehow high on adrenaline. I could see the tiredness in Debra’s eyes. I felt it myself. But together we saw the bigger picture.
Option one was appealing. We could just tell them to go to bed, leave it and then crash ourselves.
Option two would get them to bed more quickly, but neither of us had the inclination to ride herd on the Sugar-Pop Boys.
Option three took mental effort to articulate to the wee-tots and then execute, but at the end of the night it resulted in the boys taking care of themselves for the small stuff until they were in bed, and the two of us being able to swoop in for those important last thirty minutes of the day when we connect without the noise of homework, pictures, texts, squabbles, clean-ups, brushings, and whatnots. Further, it allowed us to help one another recharge while they calmed down.
I guess the bigger lesson is that we all get tired: tired of school work, tired of real work, tired of listening with the intent to understand, tired of spaghetti, tired of making conversation, tired of putting up with other people’s annoying behaviors, tired of a lot of things in life.
But if we stop and think for a second or five, the benefit of working just a bit harder for just a moment longer might be able to be determined. The tiredness can be shoved aside for a moment and the benefit can be nurtured to the surface.
It’s identifying the benefit when we’re so tired that can be the most challenging. That’s the real skill here. Once you see the benefit you just might be able to take actions that bring it to fruition.
This observation can apply to almost anything. I have personally seen it apply to my marriage and family, my work, my cancer, my dog, my friendships, my workbench, really just about everything. And I believe I have observed it in my close friends as they applied it to me, giving me patience when I was the challenge they faced.
I’m tired, sure. We all are. But it helps me to remember that almost every single encounter has a positive and / or negative outcome depending on how we engage it.
Pausing to see the possibility for the positive helps me push being tired out of the way so goodness comes from its challenges. It’s not easy. It’s not obvious. It’s not the first reaction either. But it just might pay off. I am betting my life on it.
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