Teen Angst to 60 Year Old Satisfaction (Almost)

Recently a 3 year old boy was in the news because no-one turned up for his party however socail media came to the rescue, https://www.stuff.co.nz/life-style/wellbeing/parenting/133203054/familys-plea-after-nobody-shows-at-3yearolds-birthday-brings-community-to-beach. Birthdays for me that I am cognisant of in my teens were les than humdrum, more boredome. It doesn’t help when your birthday is in the summer school holidays. Nor does it help when you are considered a geek and someone who was not invited to parties, certainly not someone whose party you went to. Growing up in a Shit Town didn’t help, Morrinsville where Rugby was sport, alcohol was entertainment and romance was a fumble in a car at Piako Beach, (a road gravel depot which flooded when it rained). I am not going to go on about provincial New Zealand because it is what it is, nothing much cahnges, to be different in Provincial New Zealand is still like hanging a target on your back. I digress however.

I decided when I was going to turn 15 that I would have a birthday party and invited people. I was naive in that I thought if you invited people they would come however unless you were “popular” then only friends would come and friends were in rather short supply for me. I had one person turn up and one person rang and apologised they couldn’t come. The fact that I remember it is evidence that it was a source of some hurt.

This year I turned 60 and invited people, a lot came,friends family, relatives it was great. A good time had by all.Interesting that sometimes a party is not defined by who came, rather who didn’t come. It is hard to change ones mindset and focus on the event and celebrate the good times. It requires a mindset change. It should remind us to cultivate those relationships that are important to us, celebrate having friends and familiy who are important to us and to above all else be grateful.

My learning this week is to be intentional and relational and reach out to those who are important to you, those who are lonely, those who are different.

If you get an unexpected call from the blue from me and have read this blog well it is upto you to define our relationship and where you fit into my description because as sure as David Seymour is an unctious prick, I won’t be telling you that you are different.

Paul

Scribo Ergo Cogito (I think therefore I write)

Hallelujah or really? I have started to write again, it has been a long slow progress, getting my writing mojo going again. Lots of reasons why such a lengthy hiatus they can be … oh I know blog posts. Highly personal, sometimes offensive, potty-mouthed at times however authentic, a reflection of me if you wish, so lets start at the very beginning of the decline as it were, (as good as any place) I think, it all started with a door (that’s another subject as well, doors).

I was trying to crack the nod as it were as a provisional teacher, I did some relief at a school and they offered me a short-term reliving contract (two terms). It was a hospital pass that I didn’t see coming. I was to be the 5th teacher in two terms to tackle a class of year nine pupils teaching English. These young people were at the bottom of the learning ratings with behavioural issues and learning difficulties at all sorts of levels, from coming to school high on meth, through to being bone tired because they were working to help support their families. I didn’t ask the right questions so essentially it was my own fault, I went ahead and did it. One of the teachers had been on extensive time off because of a concussion issue, the others had bailed in varying states of distress or thankfulness that they had escaped.

The night before I was due to start I was horsing around with one of my sons, pretending to chase him with a fairly large hammer (just under 2 kgs). I chased him into the bedroom and he shut the door on me knocking me out. Needless to say, I didn’t feel the best! However, I soldiered on anyway as I didn’t;’t want to ring the school and say I had concussion. (I clearly did). (Strike 1) The first day there one of my more polite students when asked to engage enquired of me “Would you like me to knock you the fuck out…., sir?) I had to add the polite bit really. At that point I should have bailed and just gone heck no I won’t go, however, permanent jobs were few and far between, with many very experienced teachers selling their Auckland homes and moving to the Waikato cashed up and able to buy freehold and in some instances even a place at the beach as well.

I had earlier applied for a one-term relieving position and the Principal let me know that they had 45 applicants for the job and that I shouldn’t feel bad as the person who took it was fully registered and had 15+ years of experience. I had trained on the basis of English Teachers being in hot demand however found that was not so in the Waikato, I desperately wanted to be working rather than the alternatives so I was prepared to commute to Auckland daily (strike 2).

I persevered, throwing everything in the book that I had from freestyling rap lessons to refusing to allow some students in the class to attend due to their ongoing behavioral issues. The school in question straddled a divide between some fairly affluent suburbs through to what some might say were effluent. The culture of the school seemed to be rather insular (partly I guess because of its size) and partly due to the way it structured its learning, add a new Principal in and it was not a cohesive place.

Back to strike 1, tiredness and fatigue dogged me, apart from the 4-hour commute there and back and being a full-time sole parent to 4 I was clearly out of my depth. Having just come from a dysfunctional school where a senior staff member had been committing sexual crimes against pupils I wanted to work it out and hopefully that would help crack the nod for a permanent position.

Concussion injuries manifest in a myriad of ways I have found out. I was simply dumb in continuing in the job. To be frank I was out of my depth, I was struggling, didn’t really know where to turn to, I didn’t fit in the highly urban environment, it was foreign to me and I didn’t fit in with the staff. I don’t point any fingers around that, I was a very small cog in a very big clock, and in the end, if I had stopped working the clock may have skipped a second but then with a step like a rugby winger bursting through his opponents, it would have kept on ticking.

The end came when a student (without malice or intent) crept up to a door I was holding and pulled it out of my grasp in the process blowing my shoulder apart, it wasn’t helped when an eager newly qualified physiotherapist thought traction would sort it after all it was merely bursitis (a misdiagnosis). I finished my term at the school. I guess it probably looked cloudy however I was unable to drive for 4 hours a day and cope with the shoulder injury as well as coping with concussion. I had been going to apply for a permanent position however I was told not to bother as it was already earmarked for another beginning teacher.

To say I was disappointed was true, I constructed my own narrative of my time at the school instead of just accepting that I am not a round peg. This narrative when I look back is embarrassing, frankly stupid, and unnecessary, there is nothing wrong with admitting you cannot cope or you do not fit. In the end, it was pretty irrelevant as my shoulder injury was somewhat more extensive than what was first diagnosed with my hands turning different colours, a huge loss of strength and mobility, and add the ongoing concussion issues I didn’t continue teaching.

I had stepped away from statutory social work, burnt out from all the assaults and threats, retrained, and found myself in a place where actually on a numerical basis the assaults threats and pure antagonism were worse than working at Child Youth and Family, (the only difference was that the assaults were much more minor). I had not understood when I left the Department that I needed to carry my registration through so without another two possibly three years of study I was not able to be a registered social worker, essentially consigning me to working as under valued, underpaid, overworked resource worker.

I guess that is really enough for today, my shoulder is certainly telling me that, and brain fog is slowly descending again. So I will leave it there to continue.

Paul

I’m Tired (its the human condition)

Conflict wears me out. It grinds me down and dries my spirit, soul and body. Sometimes there is no ethical choice apart from engaging with an issue and that often leads to conflict. As much as I will still engage in issues I have learnt to pick my battles, know when to yield, know when to stand and know when to walk away. I should have learnt it a long time ago but there it is.

I walked away from a group recently, theier mysygony, racism, ableism and every other ism in the book you could think of just became too much. As individuals they are nice enough people, they mean well and are generous with their time and money often. They are however dinosaurs who are stuck in times past and cannot break free from their thought patterns, you can throw a dice and take your pick why people choose to remain with beliefs that at the best are immoral. Religion, politics, personality, hurts fear they are all there to choose from. The biggest of these in my humble opinion, (a wee pause whilst you all laugh at my use of the word humble… ) ok that’s enough people.

Fear is based on the unknown and an unwillingness to grapple with that. What if someone looked at their racist attitudes and saw they were wrong, what then? Change, redress, possibilities of vulnerability, relationships at danger? All real fears. I am happy to go out on a limb and say it takes real intyegrity and bravery to admit you were wrong, the older you are the harder it gets. We that is in the communal we actually reinforce the notion of not admitting our failings. From Kings and Queens to Politicians, Prime Ministers, Presidents through to the completely average person have grown up in a world where being wrong is hard wired to feelings of fear of the consequences.

Much is said of restorative justice, however in a world where injustice prevails everyday, enabled by society, the state the church, clubs, individuals, political parties justice is a a very rare beast, almpost as hard to find as rocking horse scat. Martin Luther King said “Human progress is neither automatic nor inevitable… Every step toward the goal of justice requires sacrifice, suffering, and struggle; the tireless exertions and passionate concern of dedicated individuals”. This is why I still engage because not to do so is unjust. The key to surviving is to detirmine what you can do and when, how much can you care, surely one would go mad if one was to rail at every injustice in the world (externally). It is fine and healthy to be aware of injustice, doing so makes sure your reflective lens is in place and it keeps one honest.

I have realised that my limits are somewhat smaller than what I thought them to be which is a nice segue back into the title of my blog. As you may or perhaps may not know I have had cardiac rythym issues, they seem to be well managed however one of the medications just knocks me I can wake up tired and continue in that for the rest of the day. The post concussion syndrome doesnt help either. The good news is that eventually I will be able to stop that medication and very very slowly my concussion symptoms are abating, (hence the writing). The bad news, well it could be 6 months to a year before I can change medications. The problem with the medication is that my pulse rate sits at around 54 and doesn’t increase to much above 70 when under load, which doesn’t allow enough oxygyn to power the exertion.

Small steps towards more cardiac fitness will help as will weight loss. As to my brain fog well being hit on the head witha 900 gm stone doesnt help, nor some subsequent falls however re-engaging the left side of my brain does help, so trying to instill discipline back into my writing will eventuall help that it does tire me as does conflict however that which doesn’t kill me, postpones the inevitable but it does help climb above the walls, swim the moats and walk the fields.

Paul

Life Is Tough Sometimes.

Courage of your Beliefs.

There are times in your life you have to confront things that you wish you didn’t have to know. There are times when telling the truth will be hurtful and even perhaps devastating. There are times in your life when you fully understand that being a bearer of the truth seldom wins a popularity contest.Popularity contests are way over-rated, I have been there and tried to go with the flow, don’t cause any ripples, keep my head behind the parapet however in the end the result is just another sandwich where the filling is crap. It doesn’t matter how much bread you have the sandwich is always going to taste like crap. You can eat it fast or slow, drink something with it, or eat something alongside it but the enduring memory will be the taste of crap. How long that memory lingers is the thing that I can be in control of, and the other thing is that understanding that I choose to eat that sandwich because of my beliefs and values puts it into perspective.

Groucho Marx famously said, “I’d never belong to a club that had me as one of its members”. I have a chequered history in clubs, it comes from being an outsider, a leftist, Pinko, Commie Liberal I have been called (one of the nicer insults). I have learnt to brush these off for the noisome vapours that they are, if you allow them to settle then they become pervasive, and hard to clean off despite many washes and scrubbings.

I have learnt, albeit rather slowly at times the value of Oscar Wildes’s wisdom, “Be yourself; everyone else is already taken.” Authenticity and truth are intertwined, they are co-joined twins which if separated both will die. Believe me when I say I have tried. I guess at 60 years old I have learnt a bit and the more I learn the less I care. I don’t care if someone is a raving conspiracist, I may challenge them however I understand that short of administering a frontal lobotomy (if only I could tolerate a bottle in front of me) they won’t change.

Am I immune to that kind of dogmatic concrete thinking? No not immune but quite well vaccinated, as I have written before, however, Socrates said an unexamined life is not worth living. It beholds us to regularly take stock and ask ourselves if you we are being being true to ourselves and remember that only live fish swim upstream, only Dead fish float, with the current,

Paul.

A Letter to my Sons

Yesterday, I wrote a letter to my Sons, I have three wonderful intelligent young men who I count as my sons. One is to be a son-in-law but as I said family is more than blood it is a relationship.

Firstly I am immensely proud of you, and love you all. You have faced a number of hurdles and you have negotiated them and have gone onwards and upwards.

1. The first piece of advice is the importance of perseverance. I often gave up as a young man at the first hurdle, too hard, too hurtful, too demeaning, too damn stubborn. It was not until my 40’s I learned the value of perseverance and that was by doing. I graduated in 1998 with a degree with two majors, my student id is 8340669. 1983 was my first crack and failure, I had absolutely no idea of what I was doing and didn’t ask anyone for help. Perseverance in all you do will serve you extremely well regardless of the circumstances you find yourself in. Never ever give up, you can lie down, take a rest get assistance but never give up.
2. The next piece of advice is not be afraid to reach out for help, even I, with my unending wisdom and intelligence don’t know everything. Again it was in my 40’s I learned to reach out for help. Frankly I was an emotional bag of shit with more unanswered questions than not. They boiled down to my self image in the end. I had to learn to look in the mirror, see what I saw, and dealy with the ugliness and vulnerabilities that impacted on my ability to be a good father, husband and friend. On that I am still learning. Don’t wait to be told you need Palmolive Gold was the advertising jingle that was designed to shame you from smelling like a teenage boy! Listen to your inner voice and be guided by it.
3. Fear not (for I am with you), ok some license there, fear not because in the end if all you have is your family and your integrity then that is enough. Understand that you are never alone, that even if it is on the end of a phone someone who loves you is always there. That has got me through some extremely dark days and times and continues to even today.
4. Realise that none of us are perfect, we all make mistakes (yes even me). I have often said and I still stand by it,that we are not measured by our mistakes but rather by how we deal with them. Don’t be afraid of owning up, remember that I am always here in the good bad, and the ugly. I am not talking about being a doormat and taking the “blame” for everything. That’s a fool’s game, don’t be afraid to ask for advice if you have stuffed up.
5. Women, well first off read my letter to my Daughters I wrote yesterday, see where you fit into it, don’t be controlling ugly, or negative, and never ever be violent, physically or verbally ugly. Immediately you do that you have lost, avoid you always like it is a giant dog turd. If you are struggling in a relationship seek some counsel, first, look at yourself.
6. Be slow to anger and quick to forgiveness, remember that words once out are very hard to swallow or take back, (I have learned to sit on my hands so I don’t slap stupid people but sitting on my tongue is a little more difficult. Remember your worth is not measured by what you own, or what your title is but by your integrity, be men of integrity, be trusted that you are a man of your word, let your yes be yes and your no be no
7. My brain hurts now, I am sure that there is more to be said but if you are in doubt refer to my first statement. I am not afraid to die, however, I prefer to be alive and to be surrounded by family, Love Cronny Senior.

A Letter To My Daughters

 I have four beautiful intelligent and articulate daughters, three by birth, one is a daughter-in-law, (remember family is not defined by blood but by love). My infinite and unending wisdom is borne from learning, looking, and experience.

The learning has been experiential, instruction, curiosity (I have yet to finish reading the book of Women, every time I get close I find there is another chapter, go figure?

The first part of my letter is simply a statement of fact. I love you all unconditionally and will always be there as much as I am able.

1. Now forgive me if I preach to the converted however my first instruction comes from Proverbs 4:23 King Solomon said it best: “Above all else, guard your heart, for it is the wellspring of life”. This is a lesson that I have learnt the hard way and to my shame, I have been the cause of pain this advice (almost a commandment) stands equally for men and for women.
2. The second jewel of wisdom that I wish to impart is that you are wonderfully made, do not let anyone tell you otherwise, note I didn’t say perfect because none of us however if people come at you with rocks, arrows, insults and criticisms fear not, because I am with you and whilst I have breath in my body and a sound mind I will defend you.

3. Never be afraid of looking at yourself and telling yourself the truth, whether it be good bad, or indifferent, be reflective and willing to seek counsel and learn. Self-reflection will help you learn and become more secure in yourself. I am not talking about some navel-gazing mantra of thinking about everything you do, merely be aware of those prompts in your heart and spirit. Don’t be afraid to engage with them and if necessary seek wise counsel.
4. Don’t be afraid of reaching out for help when you feel overwhelmed or condemned or sad.
5. Be very wary of people who say you should not feel like that or similar statements, they have nothing to add to your life, your feelings, emotions etc are yours, don’t be afraid of engaging with them and changing but don’t allow a didactic tyrant to condemn you with words like you shouldn’t , you must, you always, you never. These are not words that breath life, these are words that bring condemnation.
6. Take time to listen and reflect, try not to be reactionary, and remember life is not a court of law and sometimes the most powerful thing is in fact to say nothing. But by taking breath and pausing then you can allow your heart words to reply, turn from how dare you say that to words like I feel… When you…state the specific action your partner takes.I feel…share how you feel inside when your partner did that thing.I imagine…try to imagine your partner’s perspective. How do you imagine they see the situation? Imagine a good intention.I need/want…share what the frustrated part of you say that it needs in this situation. You want to identify what you need and want in this situation, not what you want your partner to do.Would you…make a specific and concrete request to your partner.
7. Remember there is no rule that says you have to engage with toxic people, you can simply say I do not want to talk about that, I don’t want you to call me. I am not talking about significant others that you wish to have a fulfilling and ongoing relationship with, more those who wish to impose on you their belief systems or are insecure, or… toxicity is easy to spot it consists of statements and actions that break you down not build you up
8. In all other situations refer to my first statement, I love you all unconditionally and will always be there as much as I am able.
9. With love and blessings from the old man… Cronny Senior