Songs of Pain and Hope

In NYC (and in society at large), there are probably too many participation trophies.  When my daughter previously received a “medal” for completing a swimming class, she was allowed to wear it at home and then to discard it.  She also used to take chess lessons and reluctantly play in a few tournaments. As you might imagine, these were competitive. Very very stressed out kids and probably more so, the parents. Daughter wasn’t a young Magnus Carlson by any means, but she could hold her own. I think she had around a .500 record. I remember thus one time where she lost and left the room with a bit of a shell shocked look. She just ran to me and I gave her a hug. I was glad she gave it her all – I don’t think I would have lasted more than a few moves.

Once, she did receive a trophy for sportsmanship. She was gracious in victory and defeat.

A few friends have remarked you learn a lot from losing, maybe more so than any other events.

I think this is fundamentally true. It’s definitely more than learning moves, bouncing back, trying again, etc. A lot of it is about endurance and absorbing.

Especially disappointment, discouragement, discomfort. That’s what may set us people apart in terms of truly great accomplishment and achievement – and I’m not talking the usual suspects.

Instead, I’m referring to the ones that make history – overthrowing a regime, resisting injustice, restoring all that is right.

Those are all costly.

Those are all painful.

In basketball, I was solid playing on a team but not a great one-on-one player. I had a neighbor who was a year older than me. He beat me every single time he played me.

Except for the last time we played.

After dozens of losses, I wanted it so badly. And I somehow managed to pull it off – and by accident (I swear) giving him a bloody nose.

It felt like a word that doesn’t exist- a combination of relief, vindication, joy, resolution.

Like the first time I crossed the Longfellow Bridge over the Charles to see the beautiful Boston skyline.

My son’s godfather made the observation that at some point intelligence, talent don’t matter so much as pure perseverance. When one looks at the great struggles of history, there is a ton of losing. Another insightful friend made the point that evil often seems so overwhelming at first until the forces of good gain their footing and pushes back.

We love our winners.

But maybe we should love our endurers instead.

I wrote for a living. Most of the time, it felt like, unsurprisingly, work. It had purpose and meaning, but my heart and soul weren’t completely there. I joke that most of what I wrote started off with the following sentences:

“Defendant did so and so.”

“The NYPD is such and such.”

“My daughter isn’t a bad kld, no really. She’s just strong willed.”

There’s only so much of that one can take of all that before zoning out. Forget the party line and the suppression of common sense and even at times, honesty.

But starting from early last year, I started to take this endeavor a bit more seriously. I wrote one story (on my jumpshot) and the next and the next and the next. A few poems here and there.

And it became close to 800 pages of hiddenness emerging.

Finally.

Writing is a bit of a throwback these days but J was always an old soul. I’ve alluded to – the way I shot a basketball and firearm was old school.

As I’ve also mentioned before, God or a higher power is holding the pen in the vein of Led Zeppelin writing Stairway to Heaven. By no means are they perfect. Like all things, they are cracked and flawed.

But like my baseball glove, guitar, shield – all dented, they are mine.

But this is about allowing God to enter the seams to work His magic.

That’s how the light gets in.

If it helps or blesses others, then it is ab added gift but per the late professor Randy Pausch, this is ultimately for the kids.

It is their protection and preparation. It is, in part, the payoff and vindication for the challenges and lessons of the journey.

What should a father wish for his children?

The answer is probably different for everyone but at least for me, a great destiny. People may laugh at that, but that’s what they will do.

What did I go for?

Adventure.

Meaning.

Impact.

Legitimacy.

Justice.

Defiance.

Belonging.

Love.

Home.

All I hope is evident, at least a little bit, in what I’ve written down.

This is my book.

One story.

One man.

One life.

At least it wasn’t boring.

1. The grace is found in between all the things that you think matter but really don’t.

2. When I wrote my dissertation, I dedicated it to my family, the cats (but not the turtle), and God – whom I described as the Master Strategist and Tactician.  Strategy, among many qualities, is in huge part about creating a better position from weaker components.  I had to do this so much – so many cracked and broken pieces – but God is truly the Master.  To be able to piece together all the parts- not just as new but better.

3. Many years ago, a former student said the following – “God’s love is bigger than our lies.”  Struck, I asked her what she meant.  She said she didn’t know but it sounded true.  I have long reflected on what she said and I think it is one of the most profound things I’ve heard.  Would be a great song lyric.

4. At the Minnesota Pearl Jam concert, they closed with Purple Rain – an unexpected and fitting tribute to Prince in his hometown.  The crowd went wild.  One of my daughter’s childhood stuffed animals is a purple bear – aptly named Purple Bear.  I used to sing to her “Purple Bear, Purple Bear, I only want to see you laughing with the Purple Bear.”  When Prince died, someone said that all his songs were either foreplay or a prayer.  One of the greatest musicians and guitar players of all time.

5. “A man who conquers himself is greater than one who conquers a thousand men in battle.” There are several variations of the quote above attributed to others like Plato, Ignatius, and Lao Tzu.  Also one of the most challenging truths out there.  In my early 20s, I worked in a laboratory setting and had some form of this on my bench space.  It is roughly 20 years later and while I’ve made progress, am still working on this.

I once used this exercise with a church men’s group I started.  Name a fictional character who you feel reflects who you are or aspire to be.  I remember Coach Eric Taylor from Friday Night Lights and Aragorn from Lord of the Rings.  

When my turn came, the group was somewhat surprised when I said Vito Corleone, the Godfather.  Years later, another church friend pretty much told me how evil that choice was.  I beg to differ.

The Godfather (the movie and the book, need to watch and read both for the complete picture) is one of the best works on leadership and life out there.  One of the auditors I supervised even told me I was right when a management seminar he was sent to opened with “All that you need to know about management you can learn from Godfather 1 and 2.”

I’ve mentioned this before – Coppola said it was the story of a great king with three sons, each embodying a different aspect of his character – passion (Sonny), child-likeness (Fredo), and cunning (Michael).

I really could go on and on about how much I learned and put into practice from him.  That scene in the garden where Vito has a father-son conversation with Michael about his vision, disappointments, life path, and the future.  That itself is a whole lecture or discussion.

I never got to teach the work officially in class.  I would probably have been censured.  But if I could do it, I would break each lecture down by the main characters and some supporting ones (Genco the consigliere is fascinating; also Mama Corleone).

And how I wish to perform that scene in Cuba between Michael and Fredo with several people.

In an episode of the original Law and Order, Executive ADA Jack McCoy has a conversation with a defense attorney he is up against.  She pulls up to him in a limo just after having dinner at a swanky restaurant.  After discussing the case, she asks him why he just doesn’t join her in defense work where he would be paid handsomely.  Gesturing at her limo, she says all this is waiting for him.  McCoy, a career public servant, replies “No thanks, I made peace with my path a long time ago” before riding off on his motorcycle.

Path to me is interesting.  Issues of free will and predestination aside, I find it fascinating to see how lives turn out and are influenced by seemingly random or unconnected events.  The example of the butterfly effect in chaos theory is one such example where the flapping of a butterfly’s wings can cause a momentous event thousands of miles away.  In my life, some of the events that had the most impact seemed small at the time (the unsolicited letter, the chance meeting at the library, the decision to not eat dinner at home).

Like the fictional McCoy, I realize making peace with the path is so important yet so difficult.  One of my favorite authors makes this point about path – If you marry one girl, you forsake the rest.  When I look at my own path, it wasn’t easy both by fate and choice.  I definitely wish some parts were smoother, but strangely, some of the times I was most alone and where the future was uncertain were the fondest.

A friend mused on why some paths are harder than others.  Not to downplay the very real pain and challenges, but sometimes it’s the difficult journeys that yield more beauty and knowledge, even if it’s costly and doesn’t seem like it at the time.

This story is also about dragons and monkeys.  The daughter is born in the year of the dragon, son the monkey.  Both archetypal animals in Chinese culture.  Both animals appear to be mortal enemies.  Google dragon and monkey fighting and you’ll find some interesting pieces of art depicting this enduring conflict.  My favorite picture is the dragon breathing fire while the monkey throws his poop back.

Dragons in Chinese culture are sacred and valued.  The dragon is powerful and good.  In fact, the description of the pinnacle of a great person’s life is many dragons, no head – power and humility coexisting.  Dragons, however, can be feared and reviled in Western culture.  

Like the black knight.  

Nevertheless, I taught the boy to be a black knight instead of a white one.  After a movie, he asked me “Are black knights good or bad?”  I replied “Good but some think they are bad.”  I’ve always seen the black knight as independent, principled, unbound, unfettered.  A real force with deep mystique and great reserves of strength, power.  I’m actually quite wary of the white knight types – to me, they were the pretty boys who showed up to take the credit after the conflict is over.

Strangely enough, in Malaysian culture, there is a similar trope – Panglima Hitam or the Black Commander.  Just like the different views of the dragon by culture, the Black Commander is valued and revered in Malaysia, considered the model for a warrior.  

I’d also refer here to the Dark Knight movie where there is a dichotomy between DA Harvey Dent (white) and Bruce Wayne (black).  One is the hero that the people need, the other they deserve.  The ending of the Dark Knight where Batman chooses to take the fall for Dent and be hunted is profound.

I once slipped in a white knight chess piece in a gift to the girl I lit the candles for.  I’m not even sure why I did that, it seemed poetic.  If I were more confident, I would have given her the black one.