Category: Delving Deeper

Raising Expectations

By Mark E. Smith

At this writing, my daughter is in her first week of the 10th grade. It’s unquestionably the most pivotal point in her academic career – and, make no mistake, the expectations are set high.

See, the 10th grade is where colleges begin looking at grade-point averages, curriculum, and extra-curricular activities toward college admissions – and, again, make no mistake, their expectations are set high, where they want the best of the best.

However, it’s really not the universities’ expectations that matter; rather, it’s my daughter’s expectations that matter. My daughter’s self-expectations will determine how well her school year – and ultimately all of high school – goes toward college admissions. So, wisely, she has set her expectations high, too. Her grade-point average can’t be below 3.8 and, ideally, should be a perfect 4.0 or higher (honors classes can increase it). Her expectations aren’t to cruise through high school with no forethought, but to expect nothing less than to remain at the top of her class.

Yet, here’s what’s interesting about my daughter: She’s not an intellectual genius or such – just a regular 15-year-old who happens to know that whatever expectations she sets create her success.

It’s truly a lesson for all of us: What we expect is typically what we achieve. Set low expectations for yourself, and you’ll receive dismal results. Set high expectations for yourself and you’ll achieve amazing results. My great-grandmother always said, “It’s just as easy to love a good man as it is a bad man, so why not love a good man?” Really, she was hitting at the heart of self-expectation – what you pursue is what you get, so pursue the best.

In the disability realm, I can tell you for a fact that self-expectations play the single largest role toward successful living. I’ve known those with the severest of disabilities, and those with minor disabilities – and while physicality should dictate that those with more severe disabilities should have a tougher plight, that those with minor disabilities should be more successful, it simply doesn’t prove true. We see some with minor disabilities wallowing in life, while those with sever disabilities achieve amazing success. It becomes evident, then, that the single key factor between success and failure is self-expectation. If one with a minor disability believes one’s life is over, it is – low self-expectation achieve low results. However, if one with high self-expectations believes one can accomplish anything, one can – again, high self-expectations accomplish high results.

The key, then, is for all of us to look at each aspect of our lives, and ask ourselves the vital question of, Am I setting my expectations high enough? I mean, Am I pursuing the career I’m capable of; am I pursuing the relationships I’m worth of; am I being the best parent that I can be? Most importantly, Am I setting my expectations high enough in all aspects of my life to achieve the high results I’m worthy of and that those around me deserve?

Of course, increasing our self-expectations can be scary at first. If we expect little, then there’s no risk of disappointment, right? Going back to my daughter, if she had low expectations toward her grades, a D wouldn’t matter. However, because her expectations are to achieve a 3.8 grade-point average or better, a D would be devastating. But, setting low expectations to avoid feelings of failure is flawed logic. Sure, if you have low expectations, you’re less likely to be disappointed by any failure; yet, that’s only because you’re setting yourself up for failure! Setting high self-expectations may seem like a risk for failure – and it sometimes can be in the short term – but in the long term, it’s the only true guarantee for success. Again, what we expect plays a key role in what we achieve, so simply raising our self-expectations – and putting effort toward it, of course – will bring success. Put simply, there’s nothing but risk in low expectations, as we will fail; however, there’s virtually no risk in high expectations because it ensures success at some level.

Let us each raise our self-expectations in all aspects of our lives, and live to those standards. Why? Because we’re each worth it.

Living as Josh Does

By Mark E. Smith

Twenty-one-year-old Josh has been an increasingly remarkable spirit in my life since I met him four years ago. I’ve never known a young person with such wisdom and insight, making our recent conversation par for the course based on Josh’s amazing character.

Josh was diagnosed in his adolescence with a very progressive form of muscular dystrophy. However, unlike many others with his prognosis, the disease didn’t progress as rapidly as usual – that is until approximately two years ago. In fact, when I first met Josh, he was still walking, using a mobility scooter for longer distances. Yet, in the last two years, the disease caught up with him, dramatically diminishing muscle tone. I’ve seen Josh go from drinking from a soda can normally, to struggling to lift it with two hands; and, I’ve seen Josh go from walking to not being able to transfer himself from a power wheelchair.

Make no mistake, the physical realities of Josh’s condition are disheartening. But, the lessons learned and the personal growth that’s resulted from his challenges have been inspiring, teaching us both invaluable lessons along the way.

Josh and I have traveled a lot together, working trade shows, summer camps, and advocacy events. We’ve lobbied the halls of Capitol Hill, and rock-starred it in Los Angeles. However, the heart of our friendship has been formed from our weekly phone calls, where every Thursday, Josh and I talk on the phone, tossing around subjects ranging from relationships to dealing with disability to music. My role is supposed to be that of mentor, but Josh has so much wisdom and is so reflective of the struggles and victories that we all face, that I often think I learn more from him than he does from me.

One of Josh’s recent victories – and a process that we talked about for many months – was his driving independently via an accessible van. After a year and a $120,000 in technology, Josh now independently drives a van with ultra-high-end hand controls that are closer to resembling those that control an airplane more so than a car. And, for his first long-distance drive this summer, he drove 3-1/2 hours to vacation at a lake where he vacationed often as a child.

When we spoke the week after his vacation, he explained to me that the trip was ultimately a realization for him: Most of the activities that he could do as a teen – boating, fishing, and so on – were no longer feasible or easily accomplished, that he realized in very real terms the progression of his condition.

I, of course, asked how he felt about his sudden realization of the progression of his condition? And, his answer was a lesson for all of us. Josh explained that what realizing how much his condition has progressed made him intimately understand is the importance of making the most of today because we don’t know what tomorrow brings.

I couldn’t have been prouder of Josh’s insight because it demonstrated a perspective that we should all live by: Being bitter or regretful of our pasts – or of what’s seemingly been lost – is pointless. Valuing our present – no matter the circumstances – is truly what it’s about.

Moving well beyond disability, think about how many of us dwell on past relationships, childhood trauma, lost jobs – you name it – where rather than accepting, healing, and evolving to live fully in the present, we just get stuck in the past. Josh could have likewise gotten caught in the past, returning home bitter as to what his condition has done. Instead, he recognized the past as just that – gone, done, over – and was even more inspired to appreciate whatever abilities that he has today. It’s kind of like rather than dwelling on how bad your past relationship was, you focus on how great the current one is – that’s how you move forward.

And, if there’s a single lesson that Josh teaches us, it’s to live in the present, simply appreciating all that we have today.

No Moments Slip By

By Mark E. Smith

John Sparicino was my first banker. He was in his seventies, and I was 18, having just graduated high school. I was emptying my bank account to go knock around Portugal and Spain for a few weeks, with little idea what I’d do when I got back – maybe line-up some speaking gigs, freelance write, enroll in college, or all of the above. All I really new was that I had read Hemingway, and going off on a foreign adventure seemed like a great idea.

When John asked why I was cashing in my savings for traveler’s checks, I told him of my half-thought plan to go cross Portugal and Spain in my manual wheelchair for a few weeks – and to my surprise, he told me it was the best idea he’d heard in years. “All we have at the end of our lives are memories and the people we shared them with – make lot’s of them,” he told me.

In my roles within the disability world, I deal with mortality on a daily basis – those who are in the process of dying, and those who have died. And, that old banker, John Sparicono’s, words have proved among the most profound wisdom I’ve ever leaned. See, over and over, when I’m friends with those who are terminally ill, money, status, or careers are never a priority. Rather, what they reflect upon are the memories and relationships that truly made their lives worthy and memorable. All the money in the world means nothing when we’re dying – it’s who’s by our side that’s all that counts.

And, what I’ve learned is that the same holds true in life: The relationships we form and the fond memories we make are what truly matters. And, when we move beyond living to impress others with our careers or material possessions, we move closer to lives of true merit, of true meaning, of true connections, where our true net worth is based on who we love and how deeply we love.

There’s someone special in my life these days, and while we both work hard and have the ability to materialistically do some neat things in life, we share the understanding that it’s the seemingly smallest sentiments in life that actually mean the most. We live about two hours apart, so weekends are our time together. Yet, on a Monday, after we’d spent the weekend together, she drove the two hours to surprise me on my lunch break. All the shared gifts and nights on the town have meant a lot, but for her to surprise me with her presence on my lunch break “just because,” meant the world to me – something I’ll never forget because of the genuine sentiments behind it.

Again, what really completes our lives are the true connections that we make with each other. And, it takes an openness and courage to make those connections. It takes a lot to be the first I say I love you. It takes a lot to express true concern for others. It takes a lot to say you’re sorry and make things right. But, when we’re emotionally expressive at that sincere level, we’re building a life of real connections, where at the end of it all, it’s not just a life of disposable goods, but one of everlasting adoration, love, and respect.

Let us not wait till our dying days to realize the ultimate purpose of life: To connect, express, and love others. After, all, we’re all living on borrowed time – don’t let a moment of creating cherished memories slip by, especially with those you love.

Consider the Source

By Mark E. Smith

Have you ever noticed how quick others are to make negative, diminishing comments as to your value as a person, from little snipes to direct put-downs? Often those closest to us are the worst offenders, using words to painfully try to degrade us. I remember as a very young child, my father constantly implying that I would never amount to anything due to my disability, and as much as the sting of that stays with me till this day, from as young as I can recall, I somehow had the insight to know that he was among the least qualified men on Earth to assess my “value.” The reality was, he was an unemployed alcoholic, who went on to be the poster boy for deadbeat dads – not exactly someone who should have been throwing stones in his glass house. If I could have expressed it at that young age, I would have gladly said, Remind me again how that beer can in your hand qualifies you as ultimate judge of my potential? You might say that I learned to “consider the source” at a very young age as to others’ assessments of me.

Of course, my father was no exception. It’s downright alarming how quick many are to strive to diminish others’ “value,” and it’s even more alarming how readily many take it to heart, feeling lesser because of what others have said. …Don’t be silly, you’ll never accomplish that. …Why would anyone ever love someone like you? …You’ll never amount to anything… I mean, I’m keeping my examples here tame compared to how vicious some can be – words from others that sting, scar, and damage. Think about how many children have had their dreams crushed, or how many spouses have had their self-worth shattered, by so-called loved ones diminishing their value with spiteful, hurtful, abusive words. Maybe you, too, have been there?

However, here’s what’s ironic about those who strive to diminish your value: They are not just morally wrong, they’re factually wrong. Assuming you’re living an integrity-based life, no one ever has a right to assess your value as a person – not your parents, not your significant other, not your friends, no one. While none of us are perfect – we all can always grow and improve – you are intrinsically “enough,” where you deserve to be embraced, wholly, as-is. No one gets a vote as to your intrinsic value – ever. You – and your higher power, if you practice such – are the sole deciding factor toward who you are, and what you can achieve, point blank.

What’s even more telling is when we consider the source of such verbal attacks. It’s never anyone of real merit. The Dali Lama or President never call to tell us how worthless we are. Rather, it’s always a bitter, deeply-troubled person – an alcoholic parent, spiteful spouse, or teen bully – who has no right to judge anyone. We know that anyone who’s compelled to belittle others to make oneself feel better is really projecting one’s own horrendous self image onto others.

I live my life very simply. I set my value high, where I know that I bring a vast offering to the table of life. Cerebral palsy is part of who I am, but not all of who I am. Yet, if someone is to be in my life at a sincere level, he or she must truly love and accept me wholly, as-is – no exceptions. In return, I love and accept others wholly, as-is. It’s these reciprocated, unconditional relationships that elevate our lives to levels of love, trust, and safety that are greater than many have ever known.

The next time someone takes a verbal swing at your value – not accepting you wholly, as-is – consider the source and don’t give such ignorant words credit. Little people say belittling things. Know that you are a giant in comparison, where you have unlimited potential to not just rise above all, but to truly soar.

It’s What We Ask For

By Mark E. Smith

I’m very mindful of progressing week by week, month by month, year by year in my workout routine, regularly increasing the amount of weight on various excersises, constantly pushing myself to lift heavier and heavier weights, per each exercise on my universal gym.

However, I recently made a seemingly grievous error. In bopping out to my iPod and switching excercises, I forgot to change the weight on my machine. Instead of dropping the weight down from lat pulls to chest flies, I accidentally left the amount of weight far above the maximum weight with which I can do 20 reps of chest flies.

Not knowing that the weight was set too high, and mindlessly bopping to my music, I cranked out my 20 reps of chest flies. Sure, in the moment, each rep seemed a little harder, but I didn’t think anything of it, completing my set.

When I realized my error, I also realized a fact far more profound: My limitations weren’t where I thought they were. While in my mind I thought that I could only lift so much – which is where I set my limit – the reality was that, by mistake, I proved that I could physically lift much more. My body wasn’t holding me back, my self-expectations were.

My workout that day reminded me of how, in many aspects of our lives, we’re not limited by reality, but by our own self-imposed limitations, where our potentials are vastly greater than we recognize. I’m not looking for a better job because this is as good as I can get. I’m staying in this unsatisfying relationship because I’ll never find anyone who is a better match. I’m always broke, so I can’t save money. My relationship with my family will never get better – it is what it is. I’m 40, I can’t get back in shape. …Our self-imposed limitations go on and on, even though they’re not based on reality but limits we project upon ourselves – that is, low self-expectations.

Yet, when we take accountability – pushing ourselves beyond our self-imposed limitations – our lives expand to deliver what we ask of them. That is, our expectations for ourselves define the quality of our lives, so set them higher than you or anyone would expect. Believe that you’re qualified for that better job. Assert that you deserve the most fulfilling relationship. Have faith in your ability to save money. Expect your family to respect you. And, know that you can get in the best shape of your life. Again, the list goes on and on, but the fact is this: Where you set your limitations is what you’ll achieve, so set them high!

I heard a great parable. A man was walking down the street, when a homeless man asked him for a quarter.

“All you want is a quarter?” the man asked.

“Yep, just a quarter,” the homeless man replied.

The man pulled out a money clip filled with $100 bills, then he pulled out a shiny quarter, placing it in the homeless man’s hand. “Next time ask for more,” he said, holding up his money clip. “Life pays however much you ask.”

Too many of us sell ourselves short, setting limitations not based on our true potential, but based on low expectations that we place upon ourselves (or, worse yet, having been degraded by others, and believing it). The question is, however, why do so many set their expectations so low in many aspects of life?

The answer is, much of it is trauma-based conditioning that we don’t even realize (the clinical term is compulsive re-enactment). The easiest example that most of us can relate to is how amazing people consistently get caught-up in bad relationships – that is, where they base relationship decisions on devastatingly low expectations stemming from past experiences (usually trauma-based). What we know is that “conditioning,” from childhood on, creates our expectations, and as we live to those expectations, they get cemented within us, where we have an uncanny subconscious drive to seek those patterns – including painful, harmful ones – throughout adulthood. Studies show that if you grew up in a dysfunctional home, you will go on to pursue dysfunctional relationships. In fact, psychology shows that we’re the only creature that keeps pursuing patterns of trauma – no animal will keep pursuing that which has harmed it, but humans do, simply repeating self-defeating patterns over and over again. What makes this especially tragic, is that when healthy relationships or opportunities arise, our conditioned low expectations cause us to either avoid them or self-sabotage them – and it’s created a culture where, statistically, half of us can’t sustain marriages, let alone get through one day without self-doubt toward many aspects of our lives.

Now, when it comes to compulsive re-enactment – that is, consistently pursuing living to a lower standard than we deserve or are capable of achieving – I am simplifying a profoundly complex emotional condition. However, it ties into an easily understood goal: Let us raise our self-expectations, no longer relying on dysfunctional comfort zones or self-defeating patterns, but have the courage – because we’re all capable! – to push beyond them, raising our expectations. When you find a healthy relationship, but don’t feel unworthy or are scared, raise your expectations, and take a chance on it, truly investing yourself in new ways that you’ve never known. When you don’t feel qualified to pursue a better job, raise your expectations, and know that you are equipped. And, when anyone questions your stature in any way, raise your expectations, sticking up for yourself, empowered. In short, if any aspect of your life isn’t going your way – truly toward your healthy interests – you owe it to yourself to ask, Do I just keep settling for as-is, or do I evoke the courage to raise my expectations, inviting positive change?

The correct answer is, of course, you raise your expectations, no matter how much courage it takes. By raising your self-expectations – and following through with the work needed to live up to them (which can be unfamiliar and scary), you’ll be surprised at how the quarters in your life turn into $100 bills. It can’t be said enough: Life pays what you ask of it. Ask for a lot – you deserve it.

Failing Greatly

By Mark E. Smith

Anyone who saw the movie, Apollo 13 – or never saw the film! – knows the iconic phrase, Failure isn’t an option.

Indeed, the phrase is inspirational and catchy, now part of our motivational lexicon. However, here’s what few know: Not only was the phrase a fictional creation for the film and book, but it was derived from the NASA Control Room philosophy that really meant that quitting was never an option.

See, the catch phrase was skewed from an interview where Apollo 13 flight controller, Jerry Bostick, said, “…When bad things happened, we just calmly laid out all the options, and failure was not one of them. We never panicked, and we never gave up on finding a solution.”

Truly, what Bostick expressed was that failures – or, in his words, “bad things” – occurred all of the time, but what the flight control team did was never quit, they never gave up on finding solutions. They wouldn’t accept a failure as an end-all.

That’s such a vital distinction: Failures are bound to occur in virtually all that we do. However, quitting in the face of them is not an option. In fact, among the greatest people and accomplishments have always been born from huge failures. Babe Ruth struck-out 1,330 times. Henry Ford went broke five times. Jack Canfield’s Chicken Soup for the Soul manuscript was rejected by 140 publishers. James Dyson’s vacuum had 5,127 failed prototypes.

Of course, these catastrophic failures lead to among the greatest success stories in history. Babe Ruth, is arguably the greatest baseball player of all time. Henry Ford revolutionized manufacturing and the automobile. Chicken Soup for the Soul has sold 130 million copies. And, the Dyson vacuum became a market leader, changing its industry.

As Confucius put it, “Our greatest glory is not in never failing but in rising every time we fail.” As Samuel Beckett put it, “Ever tried. Ever failed. No matter. Try again. Fail again. Fail better.” And, as President John F. Kennedy put it, “Only those who dare to fail greatly can achieve greatly.”

All of these great men – as well as all wise individuals – know that failure is part of the path to success. Learning always involves failure – it’s why students study, athletes practice, and businessmen develop. Failure is “practice making perfect.”

Now, I’ve outlined a few extraordinary examples of huge failures leading to astounding successes. However, failure – and how we address it – plays an even more important role in our personal, everyday lives. If we fail, and quit as a result, we lose everything, it’s game over. Yet, if like the greats that I’ve previously noted, if we fail, but keep striving, finding new approaches and solutions, learning and growing, we will ultimately succeed. No matter if it’s my two year-old niece who was frustrated by a baby gate, so she used her toy box as a ladder to climb over it, or my friend who went on over 30 job interviews before landing his dream job, both experienced failure after failure, but followed through with a tenacity to success.

As for me, my life remains one big failure. From my daily living skills, to my career, to my relationships, to my parenting, truly, there’s nothing that I haven’t failed at. Heck, I’m failing at this very writing as I create the first draft (by the time you read this essay, I will have failed with four or five drafts). But, I don’t give up, ever. There’s nothing too physically tough, too intellectually challenging, to financially burdensome, too emotionally harrowing for me to ultimately succeed at. Sure, again, I will – and have! – fail at many aspects of life, unquestionably many more times to come. But, failure doesn’t scare or deter me; rather, failure drives me to push harder. Through failures, I learn, I grow, I adapt, I change my approach, and eventually I succeed. I’m going to fail, but in that process, I know that I’m moving closer to success.

I don’t know what challenges – read that, failures – you’re facing in your life right now. However, try shifting your perspective to a mode where you see failures as direct paths toward success. Does it take perseverance? Yes. Does it take determination? Of course. Does it take patience? Sure. But, does it ultimately lead to success? Absolutely. After all, without failures, there is no success.

What The Real Question Is

By Mark E. Smith

My friend was recently interviewed on a television show. And, based on my friend being a triple amputee, the subject of sex came up, and the interviewer was bold enough to ask, “Can you?”

My friend answered, “Yes, I do well,” and both he and the interviewer chuckled.

However, I sat on the edge of my seat waiting for the real question to be asked relating to the subject: “What about true trust and emotional intimacy – are you capable of having that?”

But, the question was never asked, keeping on par with how skewed both our personal and cultural perspectives on sexuality are.

I mean, many question whether those with disabilities can have sex, and it’s an assumed that those who are able-bodied can have sex. Yet, few ever ask anyone or ourselves, Are you truly capable of exceptional trust and emotional intimacy? – which is a far bigger part of sexuality than the physicality of jumping in bed (which is absurdly easy). In fact, the physicality of sex is often a mask or mechanism to avoid true intimacy. For many, physically engaging in sex is far easier than engaging in emotional intimacy – there’s less vulnerability involved. Physically acting is easy; opening ourselves up to be emotionally vulnerable is a much tougher, scary process. I read a wonderful quote that said, “Truly making love means allowing ourselves to be emotionally vulnerable and finding security and pleasure in it.”

I see many of my peers – regardless of disability – who use sex as a way to avoid real feelings, or confuse it for feelings. If we have esteem issues, body image issues, vulnerability issues, having sex is a quick, validating fix. I must be a real man because she’s having sex with me – see I am worthy! But, such superficial validation is never lasting (and often merely has negative results on our emotional issues in the long run – the validation leaves with the sex). Sure, feeling desired in the moment can chase away all kinds of insecurities. But, once the moment passes, all of our emotional struggles are still there, only magnified for the worse. Put simply, physical sex for the wrong motives can often drive us farther apart from real intimacy with others, and emotionally isolate us further.

In this way, we often have the process backward: Sex doesn’t lead to true trust and intimacy; rather, true trust and intimacy leads to great, healthy relationships – and all of that leads to truly healthy sexual experiences that then encompass the mind, body, and soul (it’s the difference between staring at the ceiling versus making the Earth stop in its rotation, time standing still).

Therefore, forget the question of, Can you have sex? It’s an absurd, moot point. And, start asking the question of, Are you capable of true trust and emotional intimacy? It’s only then that we’re on our way to deep, loving, lasting relationships.

Chased By It

By Mark E. Smith

Among the incidents in my life that has haunted me most is the suicide of singer and quadriplegic, Vic Chestnut. Some things just hit too close to home for comfort.

As I’ve written and spoken extensively about – although Vic’s suicide was a combination of factors – arguably the largest factor was an overwhelming sense of isolation and loneliness. And, as I’ve processed Vic’s final act over several years now – an act made as much out of heightened self-awareness as depression – I’ve never been able to answer the question of, did Vic simply kill himself, or did the world around him indirectly take his life?

In the realm of psychology, there’s a term, “parentified-child,” which applies to children who, based on extremely dysfunctional parents – addicts, mentally ill, physically ill, emotionally inept – must assume adult-like roles, literally parenting their parents. At a time when a child should be nurtured, he or she is thrust into the role of nurturer. As a result, the child learns that his or her feelings and needs are second – or, non-existent, really – to everyone else’s, and identity and self-worth are sacrificed. Such children grow up being drawn toward very unhealthy, unbalanced relationships and lifestyles, rarely capable of truly looking out for their own interests. And, the internal isolation that ultimately exists – where he or she struggles to let people in, to be nurtured – often leads to self-destructive behavior. You might say that such individuals implode rather than explode from emotions.

As adults, we can find ourselves in similar situations due to any number of circumstances, where we’re always the nurturer, never to be nurtured – and, again, it implodes the soul. Vic lived this, where he absorbed too much of the pain from others and the world around him, with little space to express his own, that it literally killed him. Going from “fame” on stage where you give yourself to others so completely, then being alone in a hotel room with not a single person in the world with you – or who you feel emotionally safe enough to call – is a harrowing experience. It helped kill Vic, and it’s chased me a few nights.

I was born a “parentified-child.” I learned early in life that loving someone meant saving him or her at your own expense – but that’s not how love should work, does work, or can work. My mother was as dysfunctional as one can be – substance abuse, mental illness, divorces – and from as young as I can recall, I just wanted to make her feel better, where her emotions were far more important to me than my own. And, it’s not a bad trait as a son or a person to want to save someone who you dearly love. However, there has to be a line we draw between being forced into that role as a child, versus choosing that role as an adult in relationships. And, I’ve chosen that role for too long, where loving has always been easy for me, but being loved, not so much. And, so my comfort zone has always been giving as much as I can to others, and using it as a smoke screen to avoid my own feelings of vulnerability. And, it works really well.

Until it doesn’t. And, ultimately, like Vic, I’m alone in a hotel room, staring at a cell phone, unable to call anyone. But, it’s not that there’s no one to call. I just can’t. They have spouses and children and jobs – and who am I to interrupt their lives with my desperate moment of all-consuming isolation and loneliness, where I’ve gone from the soaring affirmation of a public event, to an emotional crash landing, alone.

But, I’m cognizant of it all. On a recent trip, my friends bought me a rock-star-size bottle of Southern Comfort, all in good spirits. And, with it sitting on the restaurant table, not only did I know that I couldn’t drink out of fear of drinking heavily, period, but that if I took the bottle back to my hotel room, all of Hell could break loose for me. Isolated and ungrounded, with my past still not allowing me to reach out in such moments, I could easily unscrew the cap from the bottle over the bathroom sink, chug it one-fisted, toasting to Vic, the whole bottle – gone.

So, I left the bottle on the restaurant table, and split – sober and safe. And, I made it through the night, alone in my hotel room. “Mark takes care of Mark,” I said to myself while shaving in the mirror the next morning. And, I was back at it with the new day, there for everyone – and I meant it.

Then, as the day turned to eve, then to night, the bottle showed up again with my friends. “You left this at the restaurant last night,” they said.

I went along with the well-intended amusement, but, again, with Mark looking out for Mark, never to drink with Vic because I know where it could lead, I ditched the bottle somewhere – so much in a panic that I don’t recall where – and I made it through another night, isolated, lonely, but safe.

However, like the isolation and loneliness that’s come and gone much of my life, the bottle mysteriously showed up again – in my van. And, so with a friend leaving town, too, I tucked the bottle in his truck, and sent it on its way, far from me.

I got in my van, and headed a few hours home, where I couldn’t wait to see my daughter, our two dogs, and ultimately get back to the stability of my office routine. And, so just as the bottle of Southern Comfort went away, soon would the isolation and loneliness – at least for now.

Listening, Loving – Present

By Mark E. Smith

It can be argued that there’s no song more emblematic of the late 1960’s counter culture of flower-power, psychedelic drugs, and free love than “Purple Haze” by Jimi Hendrix.

However, contrary to the logical presumption that Purple Haze is about drug use, the late Hendrix swore it is a love song, a lament about a girl. And, he pointed to the lyrics, Whatever it is, that girl put a spell on me.

Of course, the lyrics that most of us know from Purple Haze are, Excuse me while I kiss the sky. But, what really puts it all into context is the preceding verse, Actin’ funny, but I don’t know why? And, so you have an amazing, iconic song about a love-sick guy, not knowing how to get himself out of a bad place, questioning, Is it tomorrow or just the end of time?

Fast forward 40-something years, and in today’s culture, the love-sick soul in Hendrix’ masterpiece becomes seen in a vastly different context, pathologized – that is, someone who needs help, some sort of intervention. Hendrix’ lyrics could easily be, Excuse me while I fix this guy.

See, we now live in a culture where it’s not OK to sometimes not be OK – and sometimes we’re just not OK, and it’s OK! Truly, we live in a society where everyone wants to fix everyone – if you have a problem, there’s no shortage of friends, family, TV personalities, doctors, and prescription drugs ready to fix you. And, yes, sometimes we need help – clinical mental health issues and various dependencies require medical intervention.

Yet, a lot of times, when we’re seemingly not OK, it’s OK. In my roles, I hear from a lot of families who want to help their loved ones who have disabilities. And, what I’ve come to understand is that a lot of times, the best help is no help – simply listen, love, and be “present” – and let the person work through his or her emotions and problems in his or her own time and way. For the most part (again, with the exception of clinical issues), we have an innate way of finding our way through the proverbial dark spots in life, back to the sunlight, where all we really need is time, space, and someone to just listen and be present with us during trying times, without judging or preaching. As Wayne Dyer puts it, “Love is the ability and willingness to allow those that you care for to be what they choose for themselves without any insistence that they satisfy you.”

As a full-time single dad raising a teen daughter, I’ve been practicing what I’ve coined the “listen-love-present approach” – and it’s challenging! I mean, I have all kinds of advice just waiting to be blurted out, but that’s not what my daughter – or most people! – need or want. Rather, what my daughter needs and wants is for me to listen, love, and be present – not dish-out advice. Sure, there are places and times for advice – including with my daughter – but, there are far more moments where the listen-love-present approach is the most sincerest form of support that we can give others.

I have an oversized, over-stuffed chair with pillows in my master bedroom. And, some evenings, my daughter will come in when I’m in bed watching TV, and she’ll curl up in that chair, and start talking. Recently, in that comfy chair, she shared with me that she’d just been dumped by her date for the Semi-Formal school dance – that is, it wasn’t just her first real school dance and “date,” but her first time being dumped. As a father, I could have given her tons of immediate advice and opinions: You’re beautiful, and he’s an idiot. I’m sure you’ll have new date in no time. We all get dumped. You won’t remember his name in 10 years. Look at how many times I’ve been dumped, and I’m fine. Everyone gets dumped – it’s just part of life. But, I didn’t tell her any of it because it would have no effect. If I did, it would really be a dismissal, wouldn’t it? Yeah, yeah – you’re 15. Trust me, you’ll get over it! That’s no way to treat anyone in real pain, who, as Hendrix noted, is questioning in a way, Is it tomorrow or just the end of time?

Rather, I asked her some listen-love-present questions: How’s this situation make you feel? …What do you think about the guy who bailed on you? …What are you going to do about the dance? And, she found the answers within herself, not just that evening, but in the coming days. (And, she gave me permission to share this story with you, as I would never betray her confidence.)

The fact is, as her father, my role is to facilitate her growth, not dictate it – and, as a father, there’s nothing more rewarding than seeing your child overcome life’s hurdles in healthy ways on his or her own, where he or she needs love, not fixing. However, this really applies to all our relationships, where often the best way to support someone isn’t with advice, but just loving, listening, and being present.

See, the truest lessons are often learned not through advice or preaching from others, but by thinking and feeling on our own – with someone who’s listening, loving, and present along the way, when we’re fortunate. As for my daughter, of course another boy asked her to the dance. And, as one might presume from Purple Haze, being broken hearted – for any number of reasons in life! – certainly shouldn’t be equated with being broken. We all need someone to listen to us from time to time, but rarely do we need fixing.

The Ladybug Effect

By Mark E. Smith

For quite some time now, I’ve been trying to convince a dear friend of mine to get a Ladybug tattoo. It all started when, over cheesecake and coffee one night, I asked her what she’s always wanted to do but has never done, and she brought up her wish to get a Ladybug tattoo. See, as a little girl, her father nicknamed her “Ladybug,” and even though their relationship has been rocky over the years, her safe place remains reminding herself of who she will always be: Ladybug, cuddled up as a content little girl next to her father.

Of course, I was full-throttle toward the idea – Let’s go right now and get that tattoo! And, in the moment, I think she would have done it. However, we were in Small Town, U.S.A., and there were no tattoo shops open that late. Still, getting a small Ladybug tattoo on her foot or ankle has remained a topic of conversation between us. Her husband and mother are against it, and I understand respecting their opinions. But, I believe whole heartedly in the positivity of daily reminders of how special we are, and I know that, in even the toughest of times, she could glance at that little Ladybug tattoo, and it would immediately reminded her not just of how special and loved she is, but that she, too, has wings with which she can soar on her own. If there’s a tattoo to get, hers is among the most poignant.

Fortunately, we all have Ladybugs in our own lives, daily reminders that can lift our spirits when we think of them. Yet, if they aren’t right in front of us, we can often forget that they’re there. It’s so easy to get caught up in all of the negativity that surrounds us and forget who we really are, how much potential we have in our lives, how special we are. Bad days and tough times can be like wearing blinders: we see all of the negativity in front of us, and don’t realize all of the good that still surrounds us, that’s still within us.

I recently had one of my worst days in a long time. I’d been going nonstop for three weeks with work, various projects, my daughter’s extracurricular activities, and on and on – so by that Friday morning, I was exhausted. And, by 10:00am, I’d gotten word that two friends were having very serious crises in their lives, and by 11:00am, I had to address a difficult situation at work – and it was just going on and on, bad news after bad news, where I was thinking, Please make this tidal wave of a bad day stop! You know, those days when you think, There’s no way things can get any worse, but then they do!

Yet, I reminded myself that temporary negativity is just that – temporary – that while I had to address the bad stuff in front of me, I could still see the good that surrounded me. If nothing else, I would eventually go home to my own Ladybug – my daughter – and our two silly dogs, where their presence alone would remind me that all was fine, that there’s so much to be thankful for.

There’s a simple truth, that what we look for in life is ultimately what we see. And, sometimes the positives in our lives aren’t as easy to see as the negatives, especially in the heat of a moment. But, the positives are always there if we just look for them – and when we stop to truly look, they’re as clear as a Ladybug tattoo that reminds us every day of how fortunate and loved we really are.