My kids know my answer to the question, “What were you before you were born?”
Sunshine, pure energy.
I’ve also made sure to teach them how to spot Orion. Link is to my thoughts on how to talk to young kids about dying.
Monday’s and Wednesday’s posts are my “adult” responses shared with our Middle Schooler.
Andy’s death moved a lot of discussions forward. I was ready for them. The LINK is from 2014.
You are going to be having these discussions with your kids (and yourself).
I’ve found it useful to have a framework available before things fall apart. That’s a chief benefit of ancient wisdom and religion. We’ve been considering these ideas for a very long time.
Monday, I shared a conversion with my daughter. It continued…
If what I said didn’t make sense to you then don’t worry about it. With a lot of this stuff, I don’t really “know” it and I’m not sure where my ideas came from. It does fit a lot of ancient stuff I’ve read.
My head isn’t set up to understand situations where opposites are true at the same time.
Andy being here, and not here
Andy not-being, and being
Andy being nowhere, and everywhere
You know Buzz next door?
Well, we can understand what’s happening in Buzz’s life, better than he can. It could be like that with a lot of things in our own lives.
Our understanding has limits, which are difficult for us to see and experience.
We might be just like Buzz => unaware of a lot that’s happening around us!
So, Sweetie, if you can’t understand where Andy was, or where he’s gone to, then don’t worry yourself.
With a lot of important things, there isn’t a clear cut answer.
Sweetie, let’s start by considering another question.
Where was Andy before you knew him?
That question sounds like an impossible riddle but there’s a deep truth inside it. It’s a little different than two others I like…
Where were you before you were born?
Where am I when I am not with you?
All of these are useful questions to consider.
Do you think he might be in heaven? I don’t even know what my friends mean by that.
If you mean, did he go into the sky to live with angels, then no, I don’t think he’s up above us. But I have an idea and it’s this.
Whenever I want to be with Andy, to feel him, he’s available to me. I can feel him right now. He’s smiling inside me, the same smile the last time I saw him at the pool.
So, in that sense, he’s still with me.
He’s with me just as much as I’m with you when we are not together.
…and despite the loss that many feel due to Andy’s death, he’s still with a lot of people. If you listen, they will tell you… “I see him everywhere.”
Your mind might tell you, “he’s gone, it’s over.”
…but if you pay attention to what you feel, then you’ll know, if Andy was ever anywhere then he’s still here with us.
Sweetie, this is the same thing with me and I’d like you to remember.
Quick note so I remember this moment – optimism with vaccine news balanced with concern as our hospitals fill up – schools closed again, and tempers strained due to grief and many days of kid bickering, which is normal but exhausting. As we see the light at the end of the tunnel, now is the time to recommit to modeling better behavior.
One other quick note: one of my wife’s friends sent us three picture frames. The idea is each kid gets to put a favorite Andy memory into their frame. Wonderful gift idea that I wanted to pass along. Our oldest added a note at the bottom of her frame, “Thank you Andy for being a great uncle.” Gratitude in the face of grief.
OK, now an idea about relationships for you.
When death, divorce or another life changing event takes place, we might have a feeling that we need to rebuild. Rebuilding, after everything fell apart.
Alternatively, we might get caught in a victim mentality. The shock of the event leaving us feeling angry, hurt or disoriented – feeling like the world, or a specific person, did us wrong.
We’ve been done wrong!
Two things I shared with my oldest daughter.
Yes, your uncle dying is the worst thing that has happened to you. However, it’s unlikely that this moment is going to be the worst thing that happens in your life. [I avoided the temptation for us to brainstorm future tragedies.]
No, we are not being singled out. Death is a natural and universal human experience. Everyone you meet will have their own story about death.
In terms of tough moments, I have a buddy who started 2020 with his spouse dying after a long journey with cancer. I followed them for many years. They packed a lot of living into those final years.
Roll forward into COVID, into grief and he shared an observation about a person he’d met.
We have an opportunity to build a life together.
Opportunity, Build, Together
I wanted to pass those words to you because they are very different from the way I saw relationships as a young man.
My ideas of the past, at best, were to find someone to share MY experience with ME.
Or perhaps, someone to follow MY instructions and serve ME.
Far more useful to be thankful for the opportunity to have loved, to have had the opportunity to raise kids and then focus on what’s next. Life after children, life after his spouse has died.
When I place myself in my friend’s mindset, certain things become clear.
Don’t seek to nudge others towards my view – share experiences and change together.
Know that shared experiences, particularly struggles, are what it’s all about. Embrace the opportunity to face life together, as those will be the moments that bring us together.
If my time allocation reflected my values, then what would it tell me?
Be grateful for an opportunity to build better together.
There’s been a lot of death and dying around me lately. I thought I’d share some ideas that you might find useful if you find yourself in a similar position.
First up, for me, grief is better than depression or chronic pain.
Depression is like carrying around a void. The void is always there then, one day, it’s gone. There’s a lot I can do to prevent a downward spiral (into the void) and I’ve gotten better and better at self-management.
Pain: I’ve been fortunate that my longest block of chronic pain was 14 days. It was like carrying a small fire. Over a decade later, I feel gratitude remembering the moment I noticed the pain was gone.
With grief, there is space between the (trembling) waves that arrive, at unpredictable times. I pay attention to the space, it feels great.
At hospice training, they encouraged us to mourn the small losses to prepare ourselves for the inevitable larger ones.
The practice of leaning into small losses will serve you well.
Did you notice the mental setup?
Things could be worse
I can handle my problems
These issues are actually good ones to have – this is a opportunity to practice my coping skills
What I Control
I can’t make myself sleep. I can set an alarm and wake up at the same time, every_single_day.
I don’t control my moment-to-moment neurochemistry. I can exercise in nature and avoid excessive fatigue.
I can’t control my thoughts. I can control:
who I spend time with
where I spend my time
what I say, write and read
where I surf on the internet
Control the controllable – accept the rest.
Anger
Grief often manifests as anger.
Anger isn’t all bad – my anger might have nudged me to toss Facebook into the trash and that’s been a plus for 2020. Anger also motivated me to cut my intake of politics, another useful shift.
While I might not control my anger’s arrival, I can influence its departure and notice each time I choose not to act on my anger.
Not acting on anger – there have been some useful wins in that department over the last few months.
The Role of Steady
I went for a long hike on Sunday.
Afterwards, I was looking at the pictures and noticed it was the first time I was smiling, rather than wincing, in a long while. I’m laughing as I type because, all summer long, I couldn’t figure out why my face looked so screwed up in pictures.
Other than walking around in nature, the only other time I’ve noticed feeling really good was after an hour riding easy.
I haven’t done much anaerobic exercise. In the past, I’ve noticed sustained high-intensity exercise isn’t useful for mood management. There’s a brief high followed by a lengthy hangover, when I’m emotionally vulnerable and my will is tapped out.
If you are prone to “euphoria-then-crater” then watch out. I have good systems for keeping myself in check. I never train with faster people when I’m on edge, even a virtual leaderboard can get me into trouble!
How might I know I’m on edge? I could assume it based on the deaths around me.
If external reality doesn’t register then try looking inwards and watch for triggers being triggered…
…anger, sadness, hunger, sugar cravings, sleep pattern changes and/or small cuts that are slow to heal.
The list above is my early-warning system (of impending doom!).
Universal Goods
Keep the good stuff in your life.
Shared Experiences
Dietary Fiber
Nature
Music
Bright Light
Forests
Sunrises
Connection
Stillness
Schedule the good stuff with yourself, your friends and your family.
Focus on doing the good stuff and have faith you will overcome.
Missouri Mountain. Yesterday, we turned around at a short down climb that, from this angle, is hidden just behind the summit. My son went through the five stages of grief over the following four hours. While demonstrating there’s no shame in backing off, I took advantage of the opportunity to talk about a few things.
In the mid-90s, I spent a unique Christmas morning under a full moon on top of Mt Cook in New Zealand. My guide was a young man called David. On the descent, he rappelled off the end of our rope. A common accident, which had no consequences because the end of our rope was only a couple feet off the ground. The mountains got him several years later when he was killed by a Himalayan avalanche.
Roll forward a bit and I was flying into Denali. As I was landing, the rangers were dragging a body bag across the snowy runway. They flew a young man out on the plane that flew me in.
Later that trip, I was shuttling loads between camps. I was solo and approaching a higher risk area near 14K. There was a commercial group nearby and I asked to clip into their rope to get past a sketchy area. The guide said sorry, but no. He was blown off a high ridge a couple days later when his group was caught out in a storm. He’d unclipped to help a client.
My biggest ghost is the father of my dead friend, Stuart. I met him shortly after placing his young son’s casket in a hearse. The depth of his despair as been with me ever since. He gave me a hug, which felt like his soul was collapsing into my heart.
My ghosts are always with me in the mountains.
What do they say?
My ghosts remind me that it is impossible to see the number of lives that await us.
Since my friend died, I’ve had many lives: financier, elite athlete, father, husband, entrepreneur…
Stu lost his lives, his children’s lives and his grandchildren’s… not a fair trade.
The magnitude of his loss grows as I move through my own life and have the opportunity to share the world with my children.
Yesterday, I didn’t tell my son about “the Dad at the Funeral.” It remains a difficult story to discuss.
Instead, I gave him a soft hug while telling him that I’d like to keep hiking with him for the rest of my life and that means we’re going to have to turn around sometimes when I don’t feel right.
He asked what scares me and I told him, “losing you.”
A friend asked me to give this talk to his firm, but I prefer to write short articles. 😉
When families talk about estate planning the discussion can center around cash flow, assets and tax minimization. While those topics need to be sorted, dollar-centric living can lead to regret.
If you apply last week’s tips about family leadership, you might discover certain realities about financial wealth.
Namely…
The highest use of an asset lies in its capacity to enable better choices…
flexibility to allocate time towards shared experiences
the ability to control one’s schedule
the opportunity to tag along when other people are doing what they enjoy
health in the context of body, mind and spirit
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Cash flow without education, connection and meaning can be a negative. Examples are the challenges faced by lottery winners, professional athletes and young, highly paid professionals.
With cash flow, I would go further and point out that excessfamily cash flow will ultimately be consumed by the least responsible adults in a family system.
You might tell yourself that you are “doing it for the kids” but the money ends up being blown by someone’s aunt or uncle.
What to do?
In your lifetime, use money to acquire time.
Share time with people you wish to influence with your values. Be the brand.
Remember that it’s better to earn, and spend, our own way in life. It’s what you did.
Have a bias towards “assets used for shared experiences,” rather than cash flow.
Ask the question, How do I wish to be remembered?
Be that person, today.
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Shared experiences, both positive and negative, bridge generations across time.
As a child, I had four grandparents and three great-grandparents. Of my childhood elders, only one made the transition into my children’s consciousness. The elder that bridged across did so because my daughter and I were involved in her end of life care.
Two themes have dominated my goals for the last couple of years: my relationship with my eldest daughter and my finances.
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Kids – my daughter worked herself out, no input from me. I didn’t change her nature, I accepted it, and we enjoyed the inevitable progression from preschooler to school-age girl.
For my pals with kids – avoid abandonment and retaliation – everything else is details.
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Optimism is the only worldview borne out by the facts.
At the end of 2008, I wrote-off 65% of my family balance sheet, was unemployed, owned a loss-making business and was facing civil liability relating to large-scale fraud.
You may have forgotten but everything we were reading was doom and gloom. In reality, that was one of the most useful periods of my life because I was forced to face the gross inefficiency of my spending choices.
The changes that result from earlier setbacks lead to an appreciation of a more simple life and I’ve continued to strip away non-core activities.
My wife is stumped when asked, “What does Gordo do?”
I enjoy my life and serve my family
Act in the spirit of service to the people that love you.
Act as if things will work out.
Keep simplifying.
Free yourself to spend time on what matters.
For the pessimist in your head that likes to point out that we’re all dead in the long run… be wary of overstating your importance in the world.
My death will be a setback for a few people but it won’t change the positive trajectory of history. I will play my role then hand off to the younger generation.
There will be tears and that’s OK.
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Human Capital & Family Finances
What can each of us bring to our families, and communities?
Strong relationships built on mutual respect and strengthened via self-improvement.
Six years ago, I was left with a home and cash assets. With interest rates moving towards 200-year lows, I realized that I had to be invested. I made an error by going all-in with real estate. Why an error?
I was geographically concentrated – the bulk of the portfolio was within two miles of each other.
I invested too much – I failed to understand the short-term cash needs of my young family, which arrived in 2008/2011/2012.
Each asset represented many years of living expenses – lumpy assets are inefficient when you’re moving towards retirement.
Real estate takes a long time to sell. With a traditional portfolio, a gradual sell down is easier to achieve.
My purchases had a margin of safety and I was able to trade my way out of the situation – 4 out of 8 addresses have been sold. Start to finish, it will take 8-10 years for me to change my asset allocation. Our family financial structure gave me time to make the change, we earned income, and we had exposure to asset appreciation.
Time worked things out – we did well but so did all others that were invested from 2009 to 2014.
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The final lesson – I am greedy in irrational ways. I can soothe my ego by noting that my flaws are widely shared.
I am susceptible to the Endowment Effect. I overvalue what I have – my wife had to force me to sell our old house, I wanted to hold out.
I overvalue future desires. I’m constantly fooling myself that MORE will make a difference.
My antidote:
Write down my desires (steam shower, truck, boat, kitchen appliances, vacations, clothes, car, office, ski chalet) then wait and let desire pass
Make the wealth cost of “more” both painful and visible
Note the choices that create my best days (train AM/PM, help someone, learn, write, teach, spend time with my wife, under scheduled)
Spend money to create true luxuries (childcare, time to think, time to learn)
Schedule my happiness essentials (time in nature, time with my wife, quiet time to think)
One of my coaches, Mark Allen, made the observation that to get our race in order, we need to get our lives in order. Racing, like any other form of stress, can strip away our filters.
Mark’s advice is an example of an athletic lesson with a wide application into everyday living.
We share a desire to be strong. This desire is expressed by building up and adding to one’s self.
Adding size through muscles, bulk, heels, boots
Adding tension from taking on obligations
Adding palmares from victories
Adding possessions and external signs of power
I’ve done it all: cowboy boots; academic honors; powerlifting; fancy cars; big houses; jewelry for my wife…
Adding, adding, adding.
The list above is about our external life. Building up is a projection of strength, but it isn’t true strength. I think Mark is pointing us towards something that might become resiliency. An integrated life where we are in harmony with our external projection and OK with all aspects of our experience (strong/weak, happy/sad). This harmony lets us cope with the tests of our races (and lives).
Perhaps you’ve had a situation where you tell yourself to be “strong” but a more accurate description is a fear that our inner storm might show through. Having completely fallen apart a few times, isn’t that big of a deal. I don’t want to make a habit of it but I also don’t want to spend my life holding tight and letting the pressure build within me.
When tired, when grieving, when sick, when stressed… life has a way of stripping our filters away.
But how can we process our inner life?
Exercise works well for me – moderate effort, repeated movements
Others prefer meditation – cultivating stillness and observing one’s mind
Many find the combination of breathing and movement in yoga to be effective
Thrill seekers tend towards extreme risk and peak experience – works for them but doesn’t work for the larger goals of my family
If we keep peeling away our layers then we might find that the joke is on us.
Why?
Ultimately, every individual unravels.
It can be terrifying when we bump into this reality. You may have experienced this fear through the death of friends, parents and grandparents.
Ultimately, we might find comfort in defining resiliency in terms of something larger than ourselves – family, legacy, lineage, tradition.
Cultivate courage by staying open towards little fears.
