Happy New Year!

Tomorrow is New Year’s Day; a day of optimism and new beginnings. My track record with New Year’s resolutions is perfect – fifty-one years and not one resolution kept. Why try again? It’s the optimism and an inherited stubbornness I’ve never been able to shake. Why fight it; embrace it.

First and foremost, I need a job. I’ve been working part-time since returning from China, but I need a full-time position. Many aspects of our lives are in limbo until we know where I’ll be working.

Next, we need a home of our own. Since returning from overseas we’ve been staying with our daughter and her family. It’s been a good situation and we are thankful, however we would like to move on before we overstay our welcome.

When I find work we’ll know where to find a home. Once we have our new home, we will know where to look for a new church. We haven’t wanted to get involved with local church, only to up-root and move on after we are settled.

Here’s the hard one; the one I deal with year after year; the one that has my resolution record perfect so far; I need to lose weight. I need to keep it off. I need to get healthy. I need to stay healthy. This is the year. I’m going full-on optimistic and having oatmeal for breakfast.

There you have it, my publicly stated New Year’s resolutions. Stay tuned and see how I do.

I Believe Too

Christmas Eve Michelle got me to do something totally out of my character. Michelle got me into a Santa suit. It was our son-in-law who was supposed to get into the suit, but ten minutes before the scheduled entrance he lost his nerve. That’s their story. I’m not sure Michelle didn’t have an ulterior motive from the start, but I was clueless. Michelle didn’t really give me a choice or any time to think about it. Before I could object the twenty-third time I was clothed in red with the itchiest fake beard known to man. Next thing I know, Michelle’s calling for the children to gather for a big surprise. At this point I’m all in; I might as well remember my lines.

“Ho Ho Ho, Merry Christmas!”

Only cousin Jen’s daughter Ella was fooled, but everyone was all smiles. Genesis, nine years old, snuggled in next to me on the sofa and whispered in my ear,

“I know it’s you, Grandpa.”

After a first round of gifts delivered by old Saint Nick, Santa quietly slipped away while the merriment continued. Later when I was sitting off to the side, MakennaLinn (six) & Gracie (seven) came up to me. They told me they knew it was me in a Santa suit. I denied it; saying I was in the bathroom and missed everything. These little detectives weren’t falling for it. They said no way, Santa was wearing my watch!

The best reaction was from little Ella. With eyes as wide as her smile, she believed.

Over the years I’ve repeatedly called myself a lucky guy. My life, complete with its ups and downs, is more than any man could ask for. Two years ago the wheels came off the cart and I’ve struggled to find an even keel ever since. I wish I could say the experience was behind me. I hope I can say the experience has built character. What I can say, with some trepidation, is that the core of who I am, although bent, is not broken. I’m still the same stubborn guy who will fight tooth and nail to stay out of a Santa suit, only to succumb to the twinkle of Mrs. Claus’ eye. I have family and health and the hope that any day now it can all turn around. Like little Ella’s wide eyes and smile, I believe too.

Here We Go, Again

I’m a big guy.

I come from sturdy stock and I like to eat. Happy! Let’s eat. Sad, let’s eat. Birthday, holiday, special occasion, let’s eat. See the pattern? I was raised on the firm belief that there is no problem that can’t be solved by the quick application of a cookie. I am quite certain my grandmothers never considered they were instilling in me a deep-seeded pattern of over eating; they were simply showering me with love; even if it was wrapped in chocolate and rolled in nuts.

I’m no longer five years old. I’m now responsible for my own eating habits. That’s where the problem lies. I’m weak. I’m like a junkie when it comes to sweet and savory. Drugs and drink hold no sway with me. Place a bowl of chips and a side of clam dip on the counter and I’ll feel the earth move. Open a Snickers bar in the middle night and I’ll wake from a sound sleep. When it comes to snacking, I’m kind of a savant.

I am the classic American yo-yo dieter. In my adult life I have weighed as much as three hundred thirty pounds and as little as one forty five; although only for about twelve hours in my early twenties. I’ve always been able to loose weight. I’m better at gaining weight, but I’ve always been able to loose it. As I get older, it’s getting harder to loose and easier to gain weight. I attribute this to bad knees, bad back and loss of motivation. It’s hard to be motivated when a big night out becomes a bowl of popcorn and the sofa.

So here I am; fifty something and just shy of three hundred pounds. Do I give up? Should I take a cheeseburger in each hand and put one foot in the grave? No! I want to be around to see my grandbabies graduate and marry. I want to choose stairs when the elevator is right there. I want to walk by the big and tall shop to buy my cloths off the rack. There are things I want to do and places I want to see before the inevitable. I’ve reached the place in my personal journey where how I finish depends upon the decisions I make today. I choose life.

Here we go, again.

Broken Clouds and Life in General

This morning as I look out at broken clouds and life in general, I can’t help but reflect. Like a mirror, I don’t always like what I see. I can be angry and frustrated or I can be hurt and hide. Is life what it is or is life what you make it? Am I a victim of circumstance or do I hold the power of self-improvement and change? I have always believed life is what you make of it. It’s a great philosophy when you’re riding high. However, in my current situation it implies I have a personal responsibility for where I’m at and how I got here. It’s true, sometimes things beyond our control happen and we are left picking up the pieces. But, what have I done with the pieces? I don’t know what tomorrow will bring, but I know I need to square my shoulders and take it on the chin. There’s nothing behind me that can help me now. The future is forward and I am determined to forge ahead. I have spent enough time in the mountains to know the peaks are preceded by tough climbs and hard work. It seems everything in life of true worth is.

Looking for a Tangible Sign

This has been a difficult year; the failure of a dream, a business, our home in Anacortes; moving to China for a position that was not as promised; my continued struggles with health and weight and being comfortable with being me. It has not been an easy year. Nor do I see any tangible signs the good times are returning. Yet, somehow, enough is enough. Since returning from China in June, I have done my level best to crawl under a rock and remain there. Not wanting to face life or the world, I have stopped writing and every form of social interaction I can get away from. My self imposed exile has done nothing to improve my mood or situation. I am still over-qualified and un-employed. I remain over-fed and under exercised. I have time to walk and listen, play guitar and write, but I do not. Sometimes I cling to my wife like she’s the last life-ring on a sinking ship, which is grossly unfair. She tries her best to understand and soldiers on, but she really needs me to be the strong one; to be the man she married. So, somehow, enough is enough. For years I have written, preached and believed life is what you make of it; easy enough when you’re rolling in the good times. Now it’s time to for the preacher to be preached and apply the lesson. I don’t know what tomorrow will bring. There are things in life that are simply beyond our control. Learning and acceptance are two different concepts. This blog is about my journey towards that end. I am: Linn Living Large.