Next week, aiming particularity for Thursday, millions of people in the United States will travel “home” to a family meal called Thanksgiving. It’s almost a given that, after turkey and mashed potatoes and all the “fixings” and before the football (American “Football” of course) on TV people will go around the table and express their gratitude for everything from the nation as a whole to grandma for fixing her trademark green beans.
I confess, it is no easy holiday for an immigrant given that it’s my sons and me and no extended family, but we have grown accustomed to it and are always included in Nolan Smith’s (former Beachwood and Durban North person) family for Thanksgiving.
I have my list ready to go:
I am grateful for my sons and the men they have become. They are honest and very hard working. They know how to conduct themselves in all contexts and I am often moved to tears when others tell me about some of the things they know about my sons.
I am grateful to my readers around the world. I never imagined that The Mercury would become the international platform that it has become for me.
I am grateful for my extended family around the world who do such an amazing job of keeping in touch. Not a week goes by without a vibrant back and forth involving several continents.
I am grateful for the speaking opportunities afforded me. It’s a demonstration of Beauty for Ashes and Grace-upon-Grace if ever I knew one.
I am grateful to be an American and to have dual citizenship with South Africa. Really, a man can love two nations. I know it is possible because I do.
Somewhat caught up with the housekeeping, laundry washed, dried, folded; Nate in his room downstairs, Thulani at work, it overcame me.
I began to miss my sons even though both were very reachable.
One so near I could hear his television.
I was missing an era.
I was missing the times they were both on top of me, getting in my way. I was missing the way they’d run all over the house chasing each other, doing cart-wheels then landing on the sofa. Much to my faked chagrin they’d skateboard from the kitchen to the living room and back again. I was missing their rapid shift from fast friends to seeming enemies following the most minor of interpersonal hiccups. I recalled with fondness how immediately they’d make up as soon as I tried to play peacemaker.
The baby years, the toddler years, the so-called tweens.
I was missing the us we were, and, like emotional jet-lag taking its toll, it hit me all at once.
There is no doubt that I love them exactly as they are and I want them to be exactly where they are and doing what they are doing.
Deep inside me, snow falling all round, I was longing for what we were, what was, what is gone.
I have seen it in 13-year-olds and missing in adults.
The member of the family who is empowered to grow and foster healthy change within a struggling family (or church or business or not-for-profit) will demonstrate some (not necessarily all) of these abilities.
There are popular tests to measure this quotient.
Here are the abilities I look for when dealing with families or groups in conflict.
The capacity to switch lenses, to see the world, at least for a time, from another’s point of view.
The capacity to report what is heard, to be able to accurately report what is said even if the content are points of contention or disagreement.
The capacity for objectivity, to be able to remove oneself and one’s interests, at least temporarily, in order to gain a bird’s eye view of what’s going on.
The capacity to see the differences among “I” and “you” and “us” and be able to differentiate each person from his or her individual role and as a member of a group and therefore resist the natural urge to plunge into a boundary-less cloud of togetherness where individuality is threatened or lost.
The capacity for playfulness and for healthy humor under almost all circumstances as even the most intense of circumstances are usually laced somewhere with elements of irony and humor.
The capacity for kindness, even while under threat or attack (I know, I know, this is a tough one).
Our Forest….. a short walk from our home. Grace-upon-grace is ours.
A parent of one of my son’s peers asked my son, then about 11, if I was a “helicopter” parent.
For the uninitiated, this is a somewhat playful but can be demeaning term teachers may use for the “over-parenting” types teachers must often engage.
It’s the hyper-vigilant, ever anxious, overly child-focussed parent whose entire life appears to hub around a child or children. It is the parent who is focussed almost solely on the child’s moods, grades, levels of content or discontent. It is the parent who sees parenting as a 24/7/365 forever-calling, and who, with the advent of a child or children, finally has something for which to live.
“No, he’s more like a submarine,” he replied.
This response entertained me. It revealed an uncanny understanding of how I usually operate. This compliment still enriches me even though my parenting has ended. (I am still their dad but my sons are launched).
When facing a challenge or an issue, I tend to circle the area, often undetected. I watch. I assess, get counsel.
Then, I act.
It may take a while.
What some may perceive as inaction — is not.
The submarine is scouting the territory, testing the tides, weighing options.
The sub is seeking objectivity, assessing an approach, trying to love, and timing the potential, if necessary, of one. or even several, strikes.
A few minutes later, also from Nate (21) comes, “I’ve let Duke out. I am going to Muncie.”
“Why?” I replied.
“Buy clothes,” he writes.
Seconds later Thulani texts from New York City: “Checking in. Alaina and I are going to dinner. I’ll let you know when I’m home. Talk soon.”
My sons are far from perfect but when it comes to keeping me “in the loop” they both get an A-plus.
I am deeply grateful for this, knowing several parents who seldom (or never) hear from their adult sons and I know a few who seldom hear from their daughters.
I value every text and every call, even the calls that are requests for cash. I try really hard to take every attempted contact as I am steeped in the knowledge of how unusual it is to hear daily from adult sons.
There are times I am traveling and both boys will text me to say he’s home from wherever.
The most “at home” feelings flood me when I know both my sons are safe and home, no matter where in the world I may be.
Half my lifetime ago, and it wasn’t easy for me to do the calculations, I moved to the United States.
I was alone; nervous, excited.
My inner-dialogue repeated Robert Frost’s “Way leads to way” from the middle of “The Road not Taken.”
The closing couplet annoys me only for its misuse and its bumper-sticker common usage. For me the real gold of the poem are the four words “Way leads to way.”
There are times I wonder how things would have been had I chosen to remain in Durban. What if I had moved to Australia?
New Zealand?
What if I had gone to England as some of my cousins did?
Knowledge of what might have been is conjecture, often foolish, often the result of blaming others or self-blame or the fruit of grief. No one can know what may have been around a corner not taken, an ignored opportunity on a diverging path, a ‘plane ticket unpurchased, a form ignored or lost, an embassy too difficult to reach or avoided.
One can know what happened.
One can know what is happening.
One can recognize the peculiar, unpredictable, mostly wonderful journey that has unfolded.
In a score of plan-your-future seminars I could never have predicted or planned how things have transpired, how wheels have turned, how events collided to place my sons and me (would I have had children at all?) in this unusual context. The Midwest of the USA is about as far from home in every imaginable manner, but a context brimming with spectacular experiences and opportunities.
I have on occasions seized the day but wasted many.
I’ve mourned and I rejoiced, hurt others and been hurt by others.
I’ve used and been used.
Shakespeare says King Lear (poor soul) is “a man more sinned against than sinning” but it is not a label I can claim.
When I have endured the pain of a cut-off from a treasured relationship I have tried for reconciliation as best as I know how. Some attempts have been successful but mostly not. I expect I will take some pain – the emotional pain of loss of treasured friends – to the grave and probably with a convincing brave front.
My choices have resulted in many beautiful outcomes, and some, not.
I have had the joy of being with you this past week: several of you shared meals with me and we met in ways I know I will remember. I hope you will, too. Thank you. Given the time I would have enjoyed such an opportunity with each of you. During your first session with me I told you I would give you my notes from each of my talks. If you read this letter today or in ten years it is all ok with me. People do what they are ready to do. Keep them. See how well they age. Remind yourself that I repeatedly said I am addressing the future you.
Day One I tried to tell you how unique and beautiful you are. This is not an older adult attempting to convince you of something adults generally want you to believe. As I said I really have never met – 50 countries and thousands of people later – anyone, anywhere who is not beautiful. Yes, I have met people who have done really ugly things and done a few myself, but, you (we) are beautiful. Get to know any human by listening, really listening, and I believe you will soon agree with me. We talked about leadership: I said Leadership is a Function, a role, not a position. If your motive in becoming a leader is to see your name at the top of a list or to be the boss, your distorted motive will be your constant hurdle. Leadership is about who and what you are and what you do within a community. It is not about status. If it is the status you seek, your drive for recognition will persistently contaminate your leadership. To lead others effectively it is necessary to know what you are good at and what you are not good at. Work at your strengths. Accommodate your weaknesses. Both are yours for the long-haul.
I encouraged you to consistently define yourself. If you don’t, someone will. Resist the natural anxious urge to define others. Become an expert in your own behavior. Resist the natural (anxious) urge to be an expert in the behavior of others, especially those who annoy you. Listen more than you speak. Make sure you are hearing, not waiting to talk. I closed saying Self-Leadership has by far the greatest impact on how effective you are as a leader. If you can’t lead yourself you can effectively lead nothing and no one.
Day Two I emphasized your (and my) uniqueness. I urged you to find within the depths of where your hearts, minds, spirits, souls meet (see it as a kind of Venn diagram) the beautiful “place” generally referred to as the SELF. YourSELF is beautiful, it’s as unique as your fingerprints, your voice, and your personality. It is shaped by your family history, your DNA, by enduring joyful and nurturing experiences. It is shaped also by trauma, by loss, grief and so much else. This SELF is resilient. The Self wants to be well. It self-repairs (given conducive conditions). It is not Selfish to find and love and know yourSelf. I would suggest it is selfish NOT to. People who avoid Self-Awareness because they consider it selfISH are usually people who put stress on leadership teams and on friendships and battle with boundary confusion – “I am I, you are you, we are we, Let’s not confuse the three” – Remember? It’s corny BUT if you live it, it will save you a LOT of pain and therapist bills!
Day Three I emphasized your God-given desire for Autonomy. It’s part of your humanity. To desire self-directedness (AUTONOMY – SPACE, ROOM TO MOVE, freedom to be yourself) comes with your birth package. When it is unfulfilled – or ignored – you will be discontent. You have a similar God-given desire for Intimacy. This is part of your humanity. We all want some closeness, to belong, to be part of. Accepting that these Dueling Desires live within you and recognizing they are present in all the people will make it easier for you to welcome both into their legitimate place within your life. You (and I) really grow up when you (we) meet these needs in yourself AND understand that others are similarly driven. When your best friend chooses to be alone (wants Autonomy) it is not a rejection of you (necessarily) if you, at the same time, want Intimacy. Remember, you cannot LOVE and CONTROL the same person.
This afternoon (Thursday) and Day Four, I left you with eight things I would tell my younger self:
Save, and never touch, one third of all the money you earn. Few people regret having saved from an early age. Few things upset adulthood as well as financial pressures.
Honor your family and extended family relationships above all other relationships. If you are a brother or a son, a niece or an aunt, be the best one you can be.
Learn to live without blaming others. While others are indeed imperfect, blaming others for anything will seldom get you to where you really want to go. There are exceptions which I made clear (I hope).
Forgive, truly forgive, but remember. To forgive and forget is often foolish and even impossible. Remembering is not the same as holding a grudge. There are exceptions which I made clear (I hope).
Find your VOICE and hold onto it. Finding your voice means figuring out what you want your life to say. Only a small portion of finding your voice has to do with actual words.
Every unfortunate or bad thing that happens to you will ultimately offer you a choice. Will it become SEED (for growth) or STONE (resentment or hardness)? Seed will be most helpful to you. The choice will always be yours.
Pursue (chase) education even over romance. Few people regret having a sound education.
Gain understanding about your power, the power that comes with being human. Treasure it; Protect it, Deploy it. Use it for its intended purpose only.
I have loved being with you. Thank you. I especially enjoyed the Talent Show and the party. I loved watching your amazing capacity to have fun and I particularly enjoyed seeing some of you who arrived earlier this week appearing shy and withdrawn having the time of your lives.
Rod
Dad, Uber Driver, International Speaker and Newspaper Columnist
Save, and never touch, one third of all the money you earn. Few people regret having saved from an early age. Few things upset adulthood as powerfully as constant financial pressures.
Honor your family and extended family relationships above all other relationships. If you are a brother or a son, a niece or an aunt, be the best one you can be.
Learn to live without blaming others. While others are indeed imperfect, blaming others for anything you are will seldom get you to where you really want to go.
Forgive, truly forgive, but remember. To forgive and forget is often foolish and often impossible. Remembering is not the same as holding something against another.
Find your voice and don’t let others try to take it from you. Finding your voice means figuring out what you want your life to say. Only a little of finding your voice has to do with actual words.
Every bad or unfortunate thing that happens to you, once you have gotten over the shock, will offer you a choice. Will it become seed (for growth) or stone (resentment or hardness)? Seed will be most helpful to you.
Pursue as much education as possible even over and above romance. Few people regret having a sound education.
Gain understanding about your power, the power that comes with being human. Treasure it; Protect it, Deploy it. Use it for its intended purpose only.
Run interference for your child as much as possible and so reduce all possibilities that your child may learn that actions and inaction have natural consequences.
Get (aggressively) in the face of every teacher, coach, referee your child ever encounters (and do it as soon as possible) so your child and all officials know who is really in charge.
Give your child the impression that teachers, coaches, school authorities, even the police are all idiots so they will always feel above the rules and the law.
Ignore common civility so your child will learn to behave similarly.
Praise your child excessively – and suggest others do the same – especially where little or no skill, talent, or meeting a challenge is necessary so the pain of having to learn something new or difficult may be delayed, even avoided.
Blame the teacher or the school if your child doesn’t do homework. Belittle the way it’s assigned, its timing, the lack of access to resources and its relevance – but never, never suggest the child’s homework is the child’s responsibility.
Every time your child (starting when they’re babies) is unsettled or unhappy, put a screen in his or her way to settle things down.
When my sons reveal certain physical aptitudes, expose some odd humorous bent, display a uniquely characteristic nod of the head, tilt of the jaw, it crosses my mind that I may be “seeing” their biological dads, glimpsing some semblance of the men who fathered them.
I do think about these two men — especially on Father’s Day — and hope they thriving wherever they are. In ways that my sons may also ponder, although I have not asked them, I wonder who these men are. I consider if each even knows about the baby he fathered or, if he does, thinks about, grieves about what he has sacrificed, missed, or lost.
I would jump at the opportunity of meeting my sons’ biological fathers. I’d go to such an event alone and find an opportunity to express my thanks for their vast contribution to our lives. I’d try to suss out how they’re each doing in hopes of suggesting an opportunity for them to meet our sons. I’d offer my sons the opportunity to choose his path toward connection with his biological father and hope that each would embrace such a connection and enjoy the long term potential and benefits from such an opportunity.
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