Here in the Carolinas, we’re enjoying the first real, honest-to-goodness snowstorm (one that isn’t just a sloppy mix of sleet, freezing rain, and other glop but is instead fluffy, pristine, gorgeous snow) in years.
A friend reached out to me and asked if I’d consider a “guest post” of something he’d written on Jan. 30, before the storm hit. I read this heartfelt message and couldn’t say “yes” fast enough.
Please enjoy.
Today, this morning, things just went right. Like all the things be-a-man, socioeconomic bullshit that men are taught is where their self worth arises. We are told we are providers, protectors, executives, authorities, leaders. And if you’re not, well, you are worthless.
Most of us feel worthless a lot more than not. I’m not special, nor am I immune, from knowing that all men are expected to be is ridiculous, unattainable goals. ( There is a word for that where I work: unobtainium. Unobtainium is that which cannot be bought, stolen or otherwise acquired). Society poisoned boys at a young age of what we are supposed to be.
But today was sweet. For a few moments I held unobtainium in my hands.
I got paid today. Ok, I get paid every month, regularly. Since I’m a contractor you know getting paid on time monthly for many years is better than gold pressed latnum. Better than dilithium crystals. Here is are 2 thoughts that persist from my MBA even though they came from the objectively worst management class of my life. Getting paid is not a motivator; NOT getting paid is a massive de motivator. Still, it checks the box of youthful indoctrination.
This morning I was not the boss; I’m a contractor. But I was “Bruce Springsteen boss”. Executive. Subject Matter Expert. Valued opinion. Not my meeting. I ran it and I got everything I wanted. That is a huge ego boost (those of you who know me never doubted my self esteem… unjustified though it may be.. but there I go again being all humble). Box checked.
There is a snow storm coming. We got this. If hell has a sense of humor or irony is not dead, I will eat these words. Box checked.
And then I went to therapy. I did the thing that needed to be done that is really hard. And it’s hard to say I need therapy. But fuck that, if you don’t think you need therapy that is evidence you NEED therapy. But I could afford mine ‘cause I got paid today. This wasn’t on the childhood list and it’s a good thing that I’m learning that that list is meaningless. Deprogramming is hard. Because if that isn’t right, what else was I taught that wasn’t right? Turns out most everything.
But the thing that made me so awesome this morning is the thing that makes me struggle. Maybe I learned something. Definitely got a new tool today in therapy. That is a good day.
This evening I was present enough to pause and look out the window.
The deer looked right back. They see me. Like them, I froze. Still as I could be, I saw her then fawn 1 and soon fawn 2. They were eating together because it’s going to snow tonight. I watched Mama’s radar ears rotate and her black eyes scan. Her babies were above her on a steep hill. She was masked by a bush, with just her head peaking out. And I was just present.
I am having a good day today.
The paychecks and professional accomplishments will be turned off gradually. Strangely, none of the childhood indoctrination tells you what to be when the jobs and paychecks end. I am fortunate that my vocation will end on my terms. Still, without work, we are undefined.
Soon I will be a blank canvas. Undefined. That is terrifying.
The deer are here for me. I was seen by the deer. And I felt seen in the best sense of the word.
And I got a new tool.
One good thing.
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