Recommended Viewing - Accessing Pleasure From Effort In Lieu Of The Trophy (Expected Reward)

"Careful In Nothing" - JR Everhart

I’m at a point in my life where there is a long list of things I don’t care about.  I’m done climbing career ladders that lead nowhere.  I’m careful about who I allow into my world and even more careful what conversations I step into from day to day.  The foundation of becoming a healthy actor in life instead of a react-or is understanding that not everything deserves a reaction.  I do recognize that I’m a big personality and always have an opinion about just about everything.  But at this point in my life, I don’t feel the need to police the world with my thoughts and views.  I am who I am, and if you invite me into your conversation and it seems like something worthwhile, we can converse.  Otherwise, you’re going to get a short answer, and I’m going to politely fade into the background before disappearing.  I just don’t have the energy or desire anymore to weave through people’s opinions and feelings.  Here's my mantra:  Believe whatever load of bull butter you want to believe. As long as it doesn’t negatively impact me, I’m good.  Live and let live! 

I just spent the evening at my favorite local sports pub watching the game.  Sitting next to me was two guys and one of them thought he was a beer bottle shrink.  He was full of horrible advice that was sugar coated with compliments and encouragement.  These are the most dangerous people to surround yourself with.  It’s like the piped piper feeding you fake encouragement while leading you in the exact opposite direction of healing and restoration.  This man seemingly spoke with authority and was really a buzzkill to the whole area of guys just trying to enjoy the game.  I had a thousand opportunities to jump in the conversation and steer them in the right direction, but I asked myself why?  They were drunk and stroking each other with layers of misguided wisdom, and I just didn’t have it in me to spend three hours unraveling their mountain of dysfunction.  Plus - and pay very close attention to this next statement.  They weren’t asking me for my help or opinion!  Therefore, I just ignored them and made the most of the game and food and went on with my life. 

This is acknowledgement of growth for me.

As such, this is what my maturing looks like.  Me understanding that not every conversation that crosses my path requires an investment of time and "personal wisdom."  I'll say it again:  live and let live.  Focus on your own issues and live your life.  If I had all the time back that I’ve wasted talking to people who were blind to reasonable thinking / deaf to solid advice, I’d be 20 years younger.  What I’ve learned is there're people don’t want to grow and heal.  Some just want to bellyache and complain about all their problems without ever actually attempting to do anything to fix them.

And our codependent behavior is never going to fix them either.  We can desire to see a friend better themselves with every fiber of our being.  But if they don’t stand up and start making the proper changes in their lives to do their work, all your desires fail to materialize.  

It’s amazing how better my life became when I removed the insanity of trying to fix everybody's everything. 

Tethered / Untethered

I made a discreet exit Sunday, (11/5) morning from the '23 National Samson Society retreat in anticipation of worshipping at Marshall (TX) EPC church at 10:45 AM.  Angie and my youngest daughter were my ride out of Van (Sky Ranch) having spent the majority of the weekend in the Big D.  Hence, a plethora of proactive farewells had to ensue in light of this.  

Post Presbyterian church service, we had lunch with the pastor and his beautiful family (wife and two preschool children), and I watched in amazement as he (my pastor friend) as the dad, quietly / respectfully parented their 3-year-old son there in the restaurant dining room via his physical presence alone.  The boy was - as all boys are - completely captivated by 3-D space (the maze-like restaurant interior).  Hence, he simply was naturally compelled to explore it / sensory experience it as he moved around playfully on the tile floor.  His dad, my pastor friend, kept one watchful eye on him throughout our verbose dialogue, and when warranted, would relay a direct vocal command or simple finger snap expertly.  The boy would respond almost instantaneously to his father's direction with zero protest, having a clear-cut understanding of both his role as the boy (dependent) as well as his father's (parent).

My pastor friend's son was mischievous but not overly.  And his exuberance / joy relative to engaging therein was infectious.  I found myself in awe of this parenting dance as my friend and I caught up almost seamlessly.

All the while, my pastor friend's daughter (5 to 6 years-old) stayed close to her mom at our dining table as all of this - w/ younger brother - was transpiring.  She seemed oblivious to her sibling's exploratory dance as she listened via comfortably situating herself with the adults (and her baby doll).

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Whilst at the 2023 National Samson Society retreat, our neighborhood homeowners' association annual meeting transpired.  Hence, I was a no-show.

Two of the current 3-member board of directors are ready to step down, therefore the primary purpose of this meeting was to establish (nominate & vote-in) successors (fresh blood).  Because I serve as the nominating chair (having served as HOA board president from 2003-2011), I'd had a letter sent out +/-45 days ago explaining the soon-to-be vacancies to our (81) homeowners.

After arriving home late Sunday, (11/5) evening from our weekend of travel, I felt so grateful to no longer have any direct responsibility to that important administrative group.  Hence, I experienced not even the slightest hint of embarrassment having not been available to offer my physical support via being present the day prior.

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This 2023 National Samson Society retreat afforded me the opportunity to volunteer (in advance of my arrival), and I did so relative to the registration table(s).  Because I knew well the man who was overseeing this post, helping out was a joy.  Plus, seeing the countenances of the hundreds of Samson guys funnel through to register was a delight to behold.  

Overall, though, it was incredibly emotionally exhausting.  I was there throughout most of the afternoon and evening.

Nonetheless, I'd do it again in a heartbeat.

The retreat was so massively influential that I'm still processing everything that went down.  From the keynote speaker to the workshops to the rekindling / solidification of friendships.  It was a true level up for Rob on all fronts.  

Lagniappe

More lagniappe

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Recommended Reading

Why We Share the Good News (thegospelcoalition.org)

"I Found Jesus In Prison..." Ethan #17

"For it is true, we can seldom help those closest to us. Either we don't know what part of ourselves to give or, more often than not, the part we have to give is not wanted.  And so, it's those we live with and should know who elude us. But we can still love them - we can love them completely without completely understanding."

 

Norman Maclean ~ A River Runs Through It

 

 

Husband Material?

This past weekend, Angie and I were working out at our local, crappy YMCA, and within minutes of us moseying in, a middle-aged guy introduced himself to me, all smiley and exuberant-like.  Because strength training (if it's done correctly) involves physical pain, it's unusual to encounter folks therein who're in such high spirits.

This energized exerciser recognized me, but not my bride, yet he couldn't quite put his finger on how he knew me (I came to find this out later).  From there, he actually encouraged me to chat with him during my workout routine, but alas, he soon discovered that he'd picked the wrong gym guy for that.  

An hour or so passed, and from there, Angie brought me up to speed regarding this dude.  For he'd eventually introduced himself to her too, and she immediately recognized him as one of our neighbors.  One of our recently married neighbors.  Who'd just happened to betroth another man.  

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Back in late December of '22, I reached out to a Samson dude (via Slack) who'd been in a breakout room with me during a virtual Samson Society meeting.  My follow-up request was to hear his story, and in order to instill some trust, I decided to divulge mine first (along with a link to this blog).  I was grateful that this allowed me to gain his trust.  He quickly followed suit, and within a few weeks, we were off and running with our friendship (rarely, if ever, did we see each other within virtual Samson meetings on down the road).

For the next six months, he and chatted consistently once a week.  And when I say chatted, these were thoughtful exchanges with absolutely zero frivolities.  This guy's voice is one that's overall, truly a pleasure to listen to.  And that's a result of standalone speaking skill, region of the country he was reared within (dialect) and - most importantly - intelligence.  

And when I say intelligence, I'm referring to strong intelligence.  

Yet, his persona is demure.  Almost to the point of being bashful.  Nonetheless, there's a whole lot about him that I am absolutely drawn to.  At least taking into consideration the portion of this Samson brother that I know, constraints notwithstanding.

This man was at the '22 National Samson Retreat, but I didn't know him then.  Nor did I have the opportunity to meet him.

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22-23 years ago, I was already on the hunt for "group therapy / help" in whatever form I could find it locally.  Back then, my primary issue was loneliness stemming from the shame / confusion surrounding my homosexual desires.  This loneliness, I feared, might eventually drive me to cheat on my newish wife (Angie).  Hence, I somehow caught wind of a local Methodist Church that had a "group" for "guys like me" (whatever that meant), and I attended after speaking over the telephone with one the church pastors who reflexively referred me to one of its regular attendees.

The group was a "Sex Addicts Anonymous" gathering, and every man that regularly attended (the same few meetings I attended) thoroughly creeped me out.  Some of the things they shared during those hour-long meetings were so far beyond my comprehension relative to my mundane existence that I felt as if I literally had landed on another planet.  It didn't help matters that most of these men weren't at all close to my age.

But the original guy (who was just a few years older than I) who'd been my initial SA point-of-contact had been super friendly and accommodating.  And he too experienced strong homosexual tendencies (& had been reared in MS).  Therefore, we made a point to meet outside of the SA troupe in order to fill each other in on our individual stories.  

It was obvious from the beginning of our friendship that this man was entertaining the idea of somehow moving our relationship from the platonic to the romantic.  And it wasn't necessarily due to any overt attraction to Rob.  Instead, I believe he was solely looking to conveniently "scratch an itch".  But I was married and couldn't relate to his itch.  As a result of this, I began to slowly back pedal.  

What made the most distinct impression on me regarding this experience was how out of place I felt at the end of the day.  

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Yesterday morning, I received a call from my demure, highly intelligent Samson brother confirming his intention to attend next weekend's '23 National Samson Society retreat.  In spite of his low-key demeanor, I could tell he was excited to be relaying this to me whilst confirming (yet again) my intentions to also attend.

I'll be honest with you, dear reader, I'm just as excited to finally meet him.  

But mostly, I simply want to be present for him.  For this will be my sixth National SS retreat.  For me, they're routine.  For him, not so much, since it's only his second.  

In closing, I'm hopeful this physical coming together will serve our friendship well relative to confirming our mutual trust in each other.  For trust between men is a true gift.  Plus, this dude's just so freaking cool headed.  What fun it will be to see if he'll actually let his guard down as he so readily did when we were telephoning regularly.