V4. CH1. MY WIFE SUSAN

First, without an iota of patronization...…Susan’s remarkable being includes a very strong self-knowledge defining who she is mentally, spiritually and physically. Her understanding of being has consistently allowed her to manifest joy in remarkable and creative ways. On paper her talents are a lengthy list:  Singer, Songwriter, Sound Healer, 13th Octave LaHoChi Master, Reiki Master,  End-of-Life Doula, children’s book author, and much more that include many other talents and labels.  

In the nearly 30 years that we have known each other my constant amazement is her commitment and successes as a seeker, a performer, a practitioner and generous friend. How lucky that she’s also my best friend! The most accurate adjective I can conjure for Susan is impactful. Her friends, clients, and collaborators are unanimous in their gratitude for her deep commitment to genuine friendships, sensitive advice, and creative collaboration.

But for me, I am most grateful to have her in my life as a wife and mother to our children and a partner in the unfolding of our shared lives. We are both each others’ second marriage. Susan brought one daughter into the marriage and I brought a daughter and two sons.  What a party! 

Susan’s commitment to blending this family cannot be described in this blog….it would have to be a separate novel.  It would include the passing of my first wife, her step children’s mother, the financial and emotional strain of her new husband’s life on the road, and the incredibly beautiful blending of four children into one loving set of siblings through her management, sensitivity, creativity, birthday remembrances, good food, understanding, support & sympathy…. and commitment to understanding the differences between obligations and loving support.

She chose from her heart.

Sue has done all of this without the requirement of recognition. She has often told me that our blended family has been a gift that she inherited without having been invited. It has not been easy, and occasionally lonely, and Susan has been remarkable in understanding both her obligations and her role while supporting my role as a husband, father, provider and protector.

And now, another set of unintended circumstances. Two and a half years ago I earned the choice to retire after 22 years of building a very successful sales and distribution business. With great expectations I emerged from the work chrysalis like the caterpillar with the expectations of becoming a Monarch Butterfly. Instead, with a certain frustration, I have found my wings to be a bit frail, and less uplifting than I expected. I feel as though I am in a struggle with relevancy. My own creation of limitations of course.  Turning inward instead of taking advantage of being free to think, do and act with the sense of security and abandon that I have earned and Susan has supported.  

Stay tuned and please stay in touch.  I am working on a different story line now. Also,…my door is open. With great affection, thank you for occasionally spending a few minutes musing through my rambling blog!

Mickeylistener@yahoo.com

Note from Sue:  

Hello dear friends, Mickey wanted to start this year’s father’s blog with some acknowledgments & love for me, it’s so sweet…!  These blog entries are an inspiration to create some legacy for us both as we are connected for all time and also for our beautiful children and grandchildren.  I love you all, and I thank Mickey for his divine masculine musings! March 2025

V3. CH10. CHANGE. AGAIN.

The annual fall foliage color explosion has peaked, and has mostly morphed into its pre-winter less colorful background.  The seasonal experience of transitioning from summer to fall is one of the true joys of being a New Englander.  

For us, a fall highlight is a single Maple tree in our front yard that turns a bright, vibrant red, while still being able to hang on to most of its foliage all the way into the first of winter.  The tree is perfectly framed by our front picture window and will likely shed its last leaves to become bright spots of red on the first seasonal snowfall.  

Ironically, with all of the visual joy we are experiencing in our current rental home, there are circumstances which are requiring Sue and I to once again look to re-home ourselves in the next several months.  This will be our third move in a little over two years, and there are many competing priorities in trying to identify our next change of place.  

We want to remain geographically close to our four children and six grandchildren, even while they have their own priorities and lives to live.  Both Sue and I require sufficient personal space – I’m messy, she’s not, I’m loud, she’s quiet – while also considering our budget and associated ongoing affordability.  We have ruled out living in a condo but neither do we want to have an acre of land to mow.  Our re-homing search is now months old and beginning to feel more like a three dimensional game of chess than the JOY filled adventure we were hoping for.

I feel a little discouraged after being shown so many potential dwellings and seeing only one that we were really attracted to (fell in love with) which we ultimately lost to a competing bid.  It is beginning to appear more likely that our most intimate future friends will be the real estate brokers trying to help us in the search for permanent long-term residency.  Obviously just kidding, we really do like our brokers!  

For the very first time since Sue and I have been married, the search, and decision, is focused solely on our personal considerations, without regard to the needs of our children and extended family.  For example, when we see a pleasant but small house that might suit our needs, should we even consider that it is probably too small to host future family gatherings?  What about having room and a place for the grand kids to play in the back yard?   What if our new residence were actually an hour or two away from the kids instead of the nearby neighborhoods where they currently live?  We may see them even less.   

What’s happening is that Sue’s and my circumstances and needs are morphing separately from the needs and circumstances of the family and friends we love the most.  We are in a new season and time of change for ourselves. 

This is a typical conundrum of multi-generational family aging, and challenges that affect the vast majority of the population over time.  Yet, for Sue and I we have always considered our familial geographic proximity a gift that we want to continue to enjoy as much as possible!

As we continue to search for our new home, we remain optimistic that all will fall into place at exactly the right time and circumstances that are meant to be.  Please wish us luck, we can’t wait to share it with you!

V3. CH9. SCADS

Hello, my name is Scads!  I actually gave myself the name.  In human years I am about 10,000 years old.  My parent rock (you might refer to her as mother) is actually a small mountain that resides in what is now known as the Berkshire Mountain range in Massachusetts. Mom left me, and a lot of my siblings behind as she receded from where she dropped me in Wilton CT.  

We were all left behind during her retreat north to her permanent home at the end of the last Ice Age. Actually, we rocks do not think in terms of years but rather in increments known as strops! A single strop is the equivalent of about 500 years, so I am approximately 40 strops old. My life expectancy is likely close to around 160+ strops or more, depending upon climate changes, prevailing winds and/or natural upheavals. Just about my only natural enemy is molten lava, but, I age considerably if I experience cracking. Cracking happens when water gets into my blemishes then freezes, expands and cracks the surface. So far, my surface is pretty clean, so that is a good sign.

I have seen so much from my vantage point here in Wilton, CT. You may think it is boring to sit in one place day after day for hundreds of years, but that is simply not the case. Stillness provides perspective and insight that is otherwise unavailable if you are always on the move. In a single strop I get to see 2000 seasonal changes and more than 6000 full moons! I will see thousands of sun rises and sunsets. birds often perch on my nose, and I have had dozens of birds nest right in my eye sockets! I have to admit I would really love to travel a little, even if it was just to visit with the rock on the other side of the field. Yet, I am grateful that I am not just one of the thousands of rocks living as a stone wall just off of my right shoulder running for miles through the woods.

Here are some of the many other changes I have seen during the past forty or fifty strop of years. And since I have plenty of time, I really get to study and experience the changes. Some changes seem as though they will be permanent while others will be more fleeting. The three most dynamic changes have been the appearance of a human population, just about the same time as my mother deposited me here in New England. Second is that the weather where I reside has gotten 2 or 3 degrees warmer on average and third is that the variety of plants and trees has increased dramatically. The human population has become much more prolific, and much taller, and much more destructive to the environment.  Conflict between humans makes it seem likely that they could become extinct within the next very short period of time….perhaps as soon as before the completion of the current strop (maybe 200 years). It will not matter much to me but I am hopeful that humans can live here many strops into the future. They really seem to have a lot of destructive habits, anger and bad behavior.

I am not really a deep thinker and I have, I think, only average intelligence for a rock. I do have a good sense of humor though, and that helps over long stretches of time.  Time also increases my sense of irony, particularly with regard to humans. The most common irony I observe about humans is how over reactive they are. Emotions experienced and expressed by humans in the moment seem never to take into account how quickly the original experience that caused the reaction may be forgotten and become irrelevant. I guess I might feel differently if my lifetime was the average length of one eighth of one strock, such as the life span of a human. But really, when you think about it, what would be the benefit of holding on to a painful grudge during such a short existence. Seems foolish to me.

I am certain that I will not have children like my mom was able to have. I sometimes wonder if she ever thinks about me. It seems that it would be highly unlikely, particularly because she has likely given birth to hundreds of thousands, if not millions of my siblings. But I am grateful that this one has noticed me, stopped to greet me, and took my picture!

It is really hard to make friends and get to know someone better if you are a rock. That is why I am particularly grateful for perspective, patience, stoicism, and an understanding of the big picture. It will likely be long after the time when I am no longer even a rock, having been reduced to a single grain of sand, that all of the infinite number of universes will eventually reveal all of their secrets of being, at which time the cosmos will return to its birth from…….NOTHINGNESS! Well, that’s just a thought...

Yours truly,

Scads

V3. CH8. 25TH WEDDING ANNIVERSARY

In July Sue and I celebrated our 25th wedding anniversary on Block Island RI, the very same Island that hosted our original wedding ceremony 25 years earlier! And, just like the original event, the anniversary celebration will also help us to recall some of the most magical memories of our lives together...

First of all, Sue and I both have our own individual long-standing attraction to Block Island.  Sue from all the way back to her teenage years through several summer jobs, and me for several years as a vacation spot before Sue and I met.  If you have never been to Block Island, affectionately known as The Block by regular visitors to the island, our favorite route to getting there is to bring our car to the island via ferry from Point Judith RI.  The island can also be reached by both passenger and car ferries from New London CT, and passenger ferries from Newport RI and Montauck, NY, or a delightful 12 minute flight from Westerly, RI.

When Sue and I were married on Block Island in July of 1999 it was a truly special day.  We had rented a large house for the week prior to the actual wedding ceremony, along with two other of our dear friend couples.  We also had with us a total of seven children combined that we had parented amongst us.  Sue and I contributed four of those seven kids through a combination of both of our previous marriages.  

By the time the Saturday evening sunset wedding rolled around twenty five years ago, there were 90+ adults and children who had arrived on the island to help us celebrate our vows on the beautiful lawn of our rental property.  Both Sue and I agree that at the moment we walked arm in arm across the back deck of the house to be greeted by the love of our family and guests, and framed by a background of the most glorious, westerly view of the sun and sea, that we would always be able to recall that singular moment as the perfect expression of our love for each other.  And, in truth, we HAVE called upon that moment dozens of times in the last 25 years to remind us of how, and whom, we should be to and for each other. 

Over the next 25 years Sue and I, often with our four children and eventually with our children’s spouses and our grandchildren, would invariably spend at least a week each summer on The Block.  There was never any greater anticipation of an event than the day we would leave bound for the island each year.

Twenty five years later in celebration of our Silver Anniversary, Sue and I obviously did not expect to have the same type of experience that we had on our wedding day.  But knowing that our children and grandchildren had both inherited and embraced our love for The Block we also knew that we needed to celebrate our Silver anniversary together on this very special island with as many of our family members as possible. 

Planning the date, finding a rental house to accommodate the celebration, coordinating the arrival of all four of our children, their spouses and our six grandchildren, as well as catering, housing, entertainment, gifts and 100 other details were all managed seamlessly by Sue.  At the height of the busiest month of the year on a vacation island there is no adequate way to describe the jigsaw of puzzle pieces that Sue planned, coordinated and executed.  All of which came together seamlessly,  as if it was a given.  She manifested this for all of us.  

And, just like our wedding day 25 years earlier, a most glorious day arrived to say … on this day in July, you are being loved and blessed by forces known and unknown, seen and unseen.  Your commitment is to acknowledge and FEEL the love of family, live in that light as examples for them to emulate, and manifest the commitment to each other in community by example to each other.

Sue arranged the day to start after everyone’s arrival with a treasure hunt for all of the grandchildren.  Each of them participated with equal joy as even the youngest at ten months old seemed to follow them with his eyes suggesting he would be in the middle of the hunt a few years into the future.

After food, joy and the magic of all of us being together on a perfect day, at the perfect location on a magical, beautiful island where each of us have collectively compiled so many memories, Susan and I were allowed the privilege of sharing with each other, in front of family how a 25 year journey can have so many surprises, can tolerate so many challenges, and can lovingly commit to both forgiveness and renewal in the same moment.

This blog is really a thank you note and a love letter from me to Susan, from me to each of my beautiful family already here and perhaps as yet to come and to Block Island, thread of a needle that ties so many of my fondest memories together into a tapestry of joy! 

V3. CH7. I'VE BEEN SEEING SOMEONE

When you ask a friend how they are doing and their response is “I’m seeing someone”, they likely mean they have either become involved in a romantic relationship or they are receiving mental health counseling (in rare cases, perhaps both).   Well, I am seeing somebody, and I definitely do not have another romantic relationship.  I continue to deeply love my wife.  

However, I am actually seeing my third different therapist in the past three years.

Unfortunately the relationship with my first two therapists greatly suffered through my lack of attention and honesty with regard to any insight they may have been provided by me.  Not surprisingly, I relatively quickly decided that neither of them really helped me in a way that I anticipated they would.  In retrospect, I believe the experience with my first two therapists suffered from my ability to control the narrative with them both by suggesting that I was a very likeable and a willing good guy, demonstrating those traits in most of our conversations.  I actually felt like I was entertaining them!  

Yet, at the same time I subtly conceded that I wasn’t perfect and that I would pay more (generic) attention to my marital concerns.  In other words, I was playing the therapists in a way that allowed me to appear as though I was being proactive by agreeing to therapy without having to do the more honest, hard, therapeutic work my marriage required.  

I don’t think I really deeply believed that I actually needed a therapist’s counsel.  I was more responding to a suggestion that my wife had put forward.  It was becoming increasingly clear that we were having some frequent problematic communication challenges.  In retrospect I think I agreed to therapy, not so much because I believed that it would be particularly helpful, but more because I was patronizing her legitimate concern that we needed some third party perspective on our relationship.

Eventually I stopped seeing both therapists because I didn’t perceive any positive results even as my wife and I continued to have even more contentious moments.  After almost a year of our more problematic confrontations it became clear that we (mostly I) needed real (better) third party professional help.  I stopped searching for a therapist based on their hourly rate and more by their resume and specialties.  (I also found out that my Medicare coverage was very generous toward professional mental therapy.)  

I interviewed a few therapists whose resumes impressed me and were more simpatico to my needs, finally deciding on in-person therapy every two weeks.  Her hourly rate was more than double my previous therapist’s rates, however the rate was largely mitigated by Medicare coverage!  That was helpful I must admit.

What I learned while juggling therapists was how easy it was for me to fool myself into believing that simply checking the box of therapy was going to help either Susan or I without me having to do the work of therapy. I am done with that illusion. 

Now, three months later, I really feel as though I am making progress on improving my mental health.  

Here’s the biggest thing I’ve learned about myself so far… My therapy experience has taught me to be more personally responsible for my actions, and to express myself without ambiguity.  I am learning that honesty does not mean confrontation.  Therapy has taught me that every day is simply another opportunity and to be open to any possibility.  I know that I cannot change the past but I CAN influence the future.  Finally, therapy has taught me that happiness and disappointment are both choices that I make. 

I actually look forward to my every other week, in-person appointments.  I feel extremely unburdened by our honest communication in our private one-on-one live sessions.  I realize that my goal for my marriage has changed from fixing our relationship to a more understanding appreciative experience.  I realize now how gifted I have been by our slightly imperfect marriage.   Perfection is not a goal, it is an illusion.  Loving and respecting someone without conditions is the very difficult but beautiful work of aspiring to reach a goal.  

This work is worth the effort if the goal is worth attaining.  For me it has been a blessing, and, why did I wait so long?  I highly recommend the experience!

V3. CH6. A LIST OF 20 THINGS THAT NO LONGER MATTER TO ME AT MY AGE

(28,154 days as of today, June 1st, 2024, I like math ;-)

1. What someone else thinks about me

2. What time I go to, or get up from, bed

3. My final score for eighteen holes of golf

4. The reflection in my mirror looking like it is someone else

5. Re-arranging furniture that is too heavy to lift 

6. Reading the New York Times like it is a religion

7. Winning

8. Losing

9. Coveting anything

10. Sports on television (except for “THE MASTERS” EVERY SPRING IN AUGUSTA)

11. Politics

12. Social Media

13. The extreme and extraordinary capabilities of my phone

14. Facebook, Instagram, Tik-Tok, “X”, and all present and futures forms and features of social media (with the single exception of Instagram Reels) 

15. Taylor Swift and what she sings, earns, thinks, believes, or whom she dates, or endorses for president

16. Donald Trump 

17. Volkswagan company (what a story I’m over)

18. The age of my car

19. The things I cannot change

20. Getting my wife the right birthday present

Thank you for reading!  Love, Mickey

V3. CH5. END OF LIFE DOULA TRAINING

I am excited to share my progress toward fulfilling my dual commitments to becoming both a hospice volunteer as well as a professional End of Life Doula.  Also known as an end of life coach, death midwife, or death coach, all terms referred to by the Cleveland Clinic explaining assistance to a dying person and their loved ones before, during and after death.  

An End of Life Doula provides emotional and physical support, education about the dying process, preparation for what’s to come and guidance while survivors grieve.  Susan, my wife, has been a certified End of Life Doula for more than eight years and has found it to be a collection of some of the most rewarding moments in her entire professional career.  Death is the single guarantee that life offers to every human being.  My belief is that death occurs in honor of life, and that the experience of fear or foreboding as death ultimately arrives can be replaced by celebration even as we mourn the passing of an entirely unique soul. 

Of course physical, emotional and spiritual needs must be addressed as an individual’s human experience comes to an end.  A professional Doula, or hospice volunteer to some extent, helps to assist the medical team with information that isn’t always be available if you’re not spending more time at bedside or with the family.  Doulas can report symptomatic changes, as well as offer patient companionship, family relief, and experiential suggestions as medical, physical, mental and emotional conditions continue to evolve. 

I recently completed my hospice volunteer training at the regional hospice facility in Danbury CT.  I will soon be assigned my first patient in a home bedside scenario.  In that assignment, as well as in all future assignments there is a relatively standard protocol for all care giving.  I will need to first survey the space in order to be aware of any situational concerns such as safety, the availability of family support, and acute medical or situational concerns.  Beyond those critical issues my primary role will be to help create, hold, and honor a sacred space that will allow patient, family, and loved ones, to freely express their emotions as much as possible.

My motivation to pursue this path has ultimately been inspired by the privilege of first sitting bedside with my mother-in-law Margaret, and more recently with my older brother, Terry.  Margaret was the most supportive, caring, intelligent, philosophical life advisor and human being I have ever had the privilege of knowing.  Her grace and wisdom will always be my reference point for offering any type of advice or personal wisdom.  I could not have loved or cherished Margaret’s time and companionship more gratefully.  She also chose a remarkably graceful and beautiful transition from life to her spirit life at Danbury Regional Hospice, while on respite care over the Thanksgiving holiday in 2019.  I miss her.

Terry was the quintessential older brother, blazing a trail throughout my adolescence and teenage years, modeling for me what to do (could get away with) and what not to do (could not get away with). With only two years of age difference he closely preceded me in experiencing many of life’s big events.  First, becoming a husband, then by becoming a father, and then by becoming the first 3rd generation member to join the family construction business.  When I also choose to join the business five years later he insisted that I be hired at his level of compensation and responsibility despite his five year seniority!  Outside of work and family I even followed his lead into our blood sport, competitive golf!  We literally played hundreds of rounds together over the course of more than 50 years.  Regardless of any differences we may have had in our 75 shared years, he was always unconditionally supportive of my life choices.  I miss him. 

These two experiences at bedside will be with me as I embark on this new work.  Grief is part of the process, and something I will address as an End of Life Doula as well.  Aren’t we all just walking each other home?

Life is a gift.  I wish to help make the end of life experience a celebration of that gift.

With Love, Mickey

V3. CH4. INTROSPECTION AGAIN

I feel as though I have entered into a recognizable state of decline, both mentally and physically.  I have had this sense of decline for quite a lengthy period of time, but most recognizably since my retirement about 16 months ago.  I retired in a sort of voluntary/involuntary way without a lot of retirement preparation.  

The voluntary piece came through a recognition that the independent sales consulting business I had built over the previous two decades was no longer fun.  Between management changes, product evolution, competition, and some of my best clients leaving the business I was beginning to lose momentum…and had simply begun to fall out of love with my career.  If you have ever personally experienced momentum loss, then I am certain you recognize how difficult it can be to regain the feeling that the wind is at your back instead of blowing in your face!

Fortunately when I retired the company I worked for provided me with some financial security for a period of time.  I assumed with all of my contacts and a 40 year sales career, as well as a supportive wife and family, that it would not be particularly difficult to identify interests that would keep me occupied and engaged, while at the same time providing me with time to uncover new and separate sources of part time income.   

My real goal was to find some thing to do that I truly enjoyed doing, while perhaps simultaneously giving back to the community.  Up until now however, 16 months later, I have not found either the significant engagement or financial opportunity I had been anticipating would be so simple for me to identify.

It is finally dawning on me that the things that were most stimulating for me during the last 25 years of my professional career will most likely be the strongest components of what will stimulate me in my retirement years: 

1. I need to be in service of (or with) people

2. I need to be offering, explaining or participating in a meaningful interaction as an educator of some sort.

3. I thrive in gratefulness where I am either serving in gratitude,  or grateful to be in the companionship of others 

I also recognize that the greatest periods of success in my career have always occurred whenever I had more things to do than could be reasonably accomplished in the amount of time available to do them.  It is actually the definition of momentum.  

The result of achieving momentum requires that a choice be made in order to identify the most valuable use of your time.  A lack of momentum requires choosing between less valued options in order to fill your time (similar to watching TV reruns).  Philosophically, I am aware of the conundrum.  Joy and contribution is the activated manifestation of that awareness.  

I appreciate the privilege of being able to write and share these blog posts because they require my being introspective and honest.  I greatly appreciate your taking the time to read them.  You are always welcome to comment or even provide advice by emailing mickeylistener@yahoo.com.  I would look forward to your thoughts. 

p.s. Oh, and by the way, I have been leaning into training as an End of Life Doula through DoulaGivers Institute.  What a great way to be Introspective...

V3. CH3. LOOKING OUT THE WINDOW

It is Winter in Wilton and I am looking out my huge picture window on to a couple of acres of snow covered property naturally landscaped by mature Pine, Oak, Maple, and Willow trees, as well as several outcroppings of New England sized boulders!

 In other words, I am sitting in awe of the nature surrounding me.  The hypnotic beauty has been allowing me to float through the imagination of this exact same experience of admiration in four different scenarios, with the singular change in each scenario of being that it occurs at four different ages in my life.  First, the scene will be remembered through the experience of a 4 year-old, then as a fifteen year old teenager, then as a 30 year old young father, and eventually as a 60 year old man, mature in my career and lifestyle!

This day as a four year old (in 1951) would have been heaven on earth for me. There were a lot of kids in my neighborhood around my age.  I lived in a ranch house with a breezeway (an outdoor screened in porch between the house and the 2 car garage) that was typical of the neighborhood.  We lived at the bottom of a long sloping hill and my older brother would have woken me up early to to meet up with other neighborhood kids to ride our sleds.  Our ride was provided by a two runner sled manufactured by Samuel Allen from a design that was originally designed and manufactured in Philadelphia in 1889!  At the time I began sliding down hills the model was known as a Flexible Flyer.  Every kid in the neighborhood owned one, which the parents would trudge up the hill and then give their kids a mighty push to get them started down toward the bottom.  That was a pure thrill ride for a four year old!

As a fifteen year-old the scene I’m admiring in this moment outside my window would have meant a day off from school.  Our rural neighborhood was one of the first in the area to have a shopping mall.  In fact, you could reasonably characterize the late 1950’s through the 60s and 70s as the shopping mall era.  Shopping Malls or Shopping Centers came in to existence by incorporating department stores, retail stores and specialty stores, as well as food chains, restaurants, and entertainment venues all under a single roof, connected under continuous cover from the weather outdoors.  Also, as a fifteen year old male, I was beginning to become interested in girls.  Shopping malls were the ideal place to meet up with girls without parental supervision.  At the age of 15 I did well academically, but less well than I might have done without the distraction of girls and the social opportunities and distractions of both high school and shopping malls.

Fast forward in time to my 30 year old self.  I had been married for five years, with a four year old son and another son on the way, a house, two cars, a country club membership and the responsibility of maintaining and growing a third generation family construction business.  I worked alongside my brother and with my father in a high stress, low margin, extremely competitive industry.  In retrospect, I believe this was an era when I turned selfishly inward.  I can only describe it as a period of time when I focused much too specifically on things while often ignoring the magic of life and family, experiencing each day as it was happening in the moment.  

For me, I worked too hard, played too much golf at the club that bordered our house property, and spent less time with my beautiful wife and young children than they deserved.  It is a period of regret for me. As for the spectacular winter wonderland in front of me in this very moment as I look out the window, I would still have admired the visuals, taken my two boys out on the golf course, put them in their flying saucers (the plastic discs that replaced Flexible Flyer sleds for off road winter sliding) and given them a mighty push down the long sloping hill.  Then I would have gone to shovel the driveway!

By the time I would have been a 60 year old, admiring the same scene out my window at this moment, my first wife and mother of my three oldest children would have passed away from cancer.  My second, beautiful wife, along with her beautiful daughter and I would have already been integrated into our new blended family for eight years.  The point is that the beauty surrounding us never leaves the scene.  It is ever present.  We are welcome to admire it or ignore it…but it is worth it to acknowledge it often.  The benefits are tremendous.

 I am so grateful to you dear Earth.  Be well!

V3. CH2. DIFFERENCES

As I type here in this new year of 2024, I feel an uncomfortable, unfamiliar, emotional and physical reaction that I am choosing to associate with another ‘new’ year!  I am most generally known by my friends to be a hard-core optimist.  Yet I am feeling in to this new calendar year in a way that is not typical for me, and I am trying to dig deeper into what is for me a uniquely pessimistic outlook.

Intuitively, my reason for pessimism is that many of the outcomes I desire to have manifest are likely to have at best 50/50 popular support.  In the past, as is also the case today, I mostly assumed my moderately progressive opinion to be similar to that of the main street constituency that I have always identified with.  However, at this writing, I am not at all certain that that optimism resonates with my assumptions.  My loss of confidence becomes uncomfortably clear as I peer into the futures of my children and grandchildren. 

Today, there seems to be an extraordinary number of issues in the zeitgeist of the coming new year that are powerfully and specifically disagreeable.  Politically, economically, environmentally, philosophically, spiritually, astrologically, and intuitively, they manifest as being more non-negotiable, argumentative and polarizing than they have ever been in the past.  Yet, they offer little common ground for calm and reasoned discussion! 

I enjoy a good debate, but I dislike unreasoned arguments.  I can easily accept, and even appreciate, differences in reasoned opinion.  However, because opinions, by definition, are not facts they also leave room for compromise.  When debates devolve in to non-negotiable opinions there can be no resolution because the facts of the debate have not, or cannot be agreed upon.  The intractability of people’s opinions has never seemed so divisive. 

It feels to me, as we’ve turned around the calendar again, that civility, open-mindedness, tolerance, and reason, will be critical to assess the impact of the upcoming November’s election.  As we assess the results, and ramifications, and the civility of the 2024 elections, I want to remain optimistic.  I recognize my responsibility is to act with respect and deference to all whom I encounter regardless of their politics or opinions.  It could be called divine neutrality.  

As a parent I recently asked a friend with whom I was having a political discussion with how he thought the position he was advocating would affect our children?  The ensuing 15 minutes became a disarming discussion with a completely different emotionality than our previous conversation had begun to assume.  Or perhaps I might have just as effectively said “I never considered this discussion from your point of view, maybe we can identify some common ground to exist between us”?  

Polarization, requiring that there be both winners and losers suggests that in the end there may be neither, but there certainly won’t be both!  My thoughts now will be to adopt divinely neutrality as often as possible in every political discussion!  To just allow and accept what anyone else thinks or feels, without anger or defense.  I resolve that in this year of 2024 I will not engage in conversations which diminishes the greater good of any of the participants or subjects of the conversation!  

I wish you peace and wellness, and respectful discourse!  Mickey

V3. CH 1. NINE-ONE-ONE

In the first 76 years of my life I’ve placed exactly zero total calls to 9-1-1 because of any medical distress. I have been blessed with good health, good fortune, and an attitude that whatever potential medical experience I was currently experiencing I would survive without the need of an ambulance ride! I also don’t like being the center of attention and nothing screams attention more than an ambulance ride with a dozen flashing lights, sirens, and medical personnel dressed in day-glow tape from head to toe acting extremely… emergency-ish.

Yet, despite my previously clean track record of never having had an ambulance ride, I found myself ambulance-ing to the Norwalk CT Hospital emergency room in the middle of the night recently. What happened was simple… while in the suspended animation of pure panic, I abandoned the concept of rational thought, and asked my wife Susan to call 9-1-1.

The detail of what happened was that while attempting to get out of bed at around midnight to pee, I inexplicably lost my balance and fell heavily to the floor with an inability to right myself or get-up! Although It was clear that I hadn’t suffered a bodily injury I was entirely disoriented with no frame of reference from any other previous experience, and, I essentially freaked out. I was completely disoriented, and unable to sit-up or get off the floor. Of course my panic went viral, instantly infecting Susan, who had absolutely no idea what was happening and was suddenly thrust headlong from her slumber into my hysteria. Her hyper-instant tasks were instinctive but daunting as follows:

Assess: Husband’s body on floor, unable to get up, with an expression of panic on his face. Determine what the F is happening and is body able to get off the floor?

Action: With absolutely no idea what has happened, and no one in the room is a doctor and body on the floor is about 175 pounds, resistant, and providing little information other than he cannot sit-up.

As calmly as possible, ask, what is wrong?

My mumbled response… something’s not right, please call 9-1-1

The 9-1-1 launch sequence is initiated and Susan takes over command central as though it is her everyday gig. She places the 9-1-1 call, sometime after midnight. It is immediately determined that an ambulance is to be dispatched, and all of the participants in the unfolding drama are now on 9-1-1 auto-pilot. For a man my age, the symptoms assessed with the EMT on the phone was possible heart attack or stroke.

Surprisingly, within five minutes it is the local police who arrive first. Our rental residence, where I collapsed, is 100 yards down a private drive. It feels a bit like a parade with a dozen blue and red flashing lights in the middle of the night leading directly to our front door. Sue shows the two officers into the house and began answering the rapid fire questions while being assured that the ambulance would soon arrive.

First, however, there was a surprising appearance by our landlord (him wearing a miner’s flashlight on his head and carrying a larger flashlight to illuminate his walk down the long, dark driveway (so Susan relayed later, he startled he heck out of her). He let himself into the cottage while requesting his own private briefing from whomever was available to bring him up to speed about all the commotion. It is all starting to get very intimate in our tiny little rental house, and VERY BRIGHT because everyone has a flashlight on. By now I am lying on the bed unable and unwilling to move, which is good, because about now is when the ambulance, with three additional personnel, a driver and 2 EMTs arrive.

The small house is beginning to get very crowded. It feels almost like there should be a pot of tea for the guests.

Susan is telling the sequence of events. I cannot stand up, and my heart is racing. I do not want to move. Fortunately, I have no apparent chest pain. Cops are on their radios reporting whatever they report to HQ. It feels like they have gotten answers to all the obvious questions from Susan. Who are you? Do you live here, how old are you, what happened, history of medical issues, how do you feel, is this your wife, is this your husband, what year were you born...?

Finally the ambulance arrives. Loading me onto the ambulance gurney in the small house was like an episode of Dancing with the Stars with me being the woefully uncoordinated amateur dancer, unable to coordinate my feet. The gurney is actually an entire operating table, complete with hydraulics, hand-rails, IVs, and enough monitors and equipment to perform surgery in the ambulance. Having never been in an ambulance, this was fascinating to me had I felt better. My rough guess is that the gurney probably weighs at least 150 pounds without a body on board.

Eventually, with far too many helping hands I was strapped in to the gurney and headed out the door to the parked ambulance. At which moment I recognized a challenge that lay between me on the stretcher and the only route to the awaiting ambulance. An uneven three foot rise of natural stone steps over very rocky terrain.

EMT #1 was on the low side, squatting to lift virtually the entire weight of the gurney with me in it… while EMT #2 was on the top step providing virtually no lift or leverage. They were about to attempt a 300 pound lift, which including me and the gurney up the first of the three steps and I panicked, certain that we would all soon be in a pile at the bottom of the stairway rocks. My panic was, of course, self-fulfilling. It completely freaked out EMT #1 and sure enough he lost his grip and the gurney slid back down the first step nearly tipping over with me strapped in! He re-gripped, got a rush of adrenaline, and in one mighty lift got me to the top of the rock pile and on level ground. Phew. Hydraulics did the rest, elevating me into the ambulance and strapped down for the ride.

At about 1:30 AM I was rolled into EMERGENCY admitting room with very bright overhead lighting, given a smock, some covers, socks, and a lengthy on-call, 100-question Doctor visit, during which it seemed like 50 tubes of my blood were withdrawn and sent off for testing.

After the rush of initial excitement….pretty much NOTHING happened! Thirty minutes after the blood draw the on-call Doctor peeked his head in to say “everything looks pretty normal…but…. we’re still looking.”

I began to realize that after 1:30 in the morning you can pretty much languish in an emergency room cubicle for an entire overnight without much attention. Unless there is some type of mass casualty event no one, patient or staff, really wants to be there. As a patient in a cubicle at that time of night your life consists pretty much of hearing random continuous beeping that felt like water torture, while wearing paper open backed pajamas, aching from the IV in your wrist and wishing you were home.

At about 2:30 AM an orderly named Bobo (truth) came to wheel me down the hall for an MRI CAT scan. Apparently, this was to see if my brain had somehow fried at home and caused all of this. In the CAT scan process your head is put in a tube and scanned kind of like a 3-D printer that sounds and feels like you’re in the Holland Tunnel.

Returned to my room after the excitement of spending time with Bobo and the CAT scan machine I felt abandoned without even an occasional drop-in visit from the staff. The only noise being the continuous beeping of some monitor that is now torturing me. Finally, at about 4:30 AM the on-call Doctor stops in to announce that it looks like I had a case of VERTIGO!!! Nothing more, nothing less….with a small prescription in hand he was going to have me released.

Although vertigo can be incredibly disorienting if you have never experienced it, it is rarely life threatening, and the symptoms can usually be relieved with a specific known exercise, known as the “epley maneuver”. I think that what I more accurately experienced that evening, at the age of 75, which scared the heck out of me, was my first real-time look at my own mortality! I don’t ever recall a previous physical experience that even remotely suggested I might be actively dying. I believe that in fear that evening, I may have been processing what has always simply been an abstract concept…death and dying.

Is dying the end or the beginning? Is it fear or hope? Is it a concept or a reality? Was the moment of panic that I felt simply uber consciousness generated by the thought that….I MAY ACTUALLY BE DYING. If this was the true revelation of my 9-1-1 experience, my even greater revelation may be the urgency of the preparatory work I need to do for the inevitable arrival of my transition. I do not want to be addressing that moment thinking that another call to 9-1-1 may be a way to buy just a little more time!

There is not one single hospital employee in an emergency room complex that is motivated to help you get checked out at 5:00 AM. I verbally called out, I pressed as many buzzers as were available, but nothing. Finally, I removed my hospital gown, got dressed in my civilian clothes, picked up my overnight bag and pushed my IV stand nearly into the lobby until a mortified NP unhooked me to be released.

God Bless my wife. Although the medical emergency was mine…the burden of the emergency was also Susan’s. While I had professional attention through the night, Susan was advised to stay home and wait for a call, so she remained completely in the dark. She was tasked with notifying all the family members in the middle of the night of what was happening without having anything definitive to say about what was actually happening. My healer and life giver and mother of our children who bears it all! I LOVE HER BEYOND IMAGINATION FOR HER CAPACITY TO LOVE, HEAL, FORGIVE and MANAGE.

God Bless the EMTs and ambulance drivers who do the most amazing things selflessly without ever hearing how many grateful stories are told of their escapades by thankful and indebted patients. I will remember their attention fondly, and will be making a donation to the local EMTs in my town. Happy and healthy New Year to all!!

V2. CH15. FEELING EMOTIONAL

I truly love the holiday season and recognize how blessed I am to be surrounded by my loving, healthy and proximate family. I often comment to my contemporary friends how fortunate I feel that all four of my adult children and their spouses, as well as all six of my grandchildren live within but a short car ride away from where my wife and I reside. While, on the other hand, the majority of my contemporaries most often need to make separate plans, in order to make separate trips, to visit separate children, often with multiple grandchildren, scattered all across the country!

This past Thanksgiving I actually experienced the privilege of holiday family proximity in an extremely unique way, and the experience affected me greatly.

In order to explain, in early October I left CT for a long planned fantasy golf trip to Ocean City MD. The trip began with a rendezvous of 23 other (mostly) contemporary male acquaintances for a five day golfing experience, which at the age of 75 had the potential to be way too much golf in way too short a span of time. I’m sure that golf trips involving exclusively male participants are a great metaphorical explanation for the evolution of the separate “x” and “y” chromosomes in the human genome. Otherwise, there cannot be an evolutionary requirement or justification for such a male dominant adventure!

Unfortunately for me, I left for the trip only days after testing negative from my second Covid infection, which was very mild… Clearly not feeling perfect, and certainly not at full strength, I am certain my poorly rationalized decision to power through my post Covid recovery on a fantasy golf trip was what ultimately resulted in several weeks of a hacking, debilitating, extraordinarily disruptive “Covid cough”.

Ultimately the post golf experience led to a lengthy, exhausting, lung and sleep-challenged period lasting several weeks during which I could not be within proximate distance to any innocent bystander. It also seemed wise that I stay home on Thanksgiving, even after receiving an invitation to all convene together after three years. Every time I took a breath to speak, I’d go into coughing spasms! It is my favorite holiday, Thanksgiving, which my wife and I hosted for years when we had the house in Weston for over 22 years.

Because of how geographically congregated our multi-generational family resides, this invite became a humbling, and emotional pot of gold for me.

So, our youngest daughter and her husband had decided weeks in advance that they were going to celebrate the Thanksgiving holiday with friends in the Catskills. They do not yet have children of their own and they have a number of very close friends with whom they often spend holiday time.

The decision was made by the oldest daughter, who now has three boys, that the holiday food would be catered (fantastic decision, and because they’re vegetarians), with the exception of the turkey itself and turkey fixings that would be prepared and hosted at the home of our oldest child along with his wife and our two oldest grandchildren. He loves to cook, he’s getting real good at it (unlike me) and would not be denied the privilege. The second oldest sibling and his wife, along with their three year old daughter contributed more GF goodies.

All of the catered food that had been delivered to our home on the morning of the holiday was finally heated, packed up, and delivered by Sue. Although I was alone at home after Sue left late in the afternoon, a couple of “well wishing, wish you were here” calls from the party house transported me to the happy mayhem of the traditional family gathering we had always shared.

And, finally…when Sue arrived back home later that evening, with a container of left-over food and desserts and all of the expressed family well-wishes, I was emotionally overcome by gratitude for our familial proximity, our ability and desire to improvise our gathering, and to support, celebrate, forgive, and experience the true meaning of “Thanks and giving”.

I end this year of blog posts with a heartfelt thank you and wishes for you to experience exactly the kind of life you desire.

Seasons Greetings! Mickey

V2. CH14. HALLOW'S EVE

We just passed October 31st, more famously known as Halloween! Our neighborhood yards and houses were surprisingly robust in typical Halloween regalia, with ghosts and ghouls dominating as well as the ubiquitous pumpkins. (As an aside and complete non-sequitur, my wife and I were at a local fair two weeks ago that hosted a “largest pumpkin” contest. The winning entry weighed 2254 pounds. That’s more than one ton of a single pumpkin!)

Yet, despite the countless man hours invested in house and yard decorations there was a paucity of visible trick or treat door knockers. It was like the neighborhood was all dressed up but nobody cared. Many of the decorations are already being disassembled and stored away to take up space waiting for next year’s reassembly. Yet, no country, publicly, does Halloween more zealously than America. The largest jamboree takes place in NYC, involving two million people. The Village Halloween Parade shuts down most of Lower Manhattan as huge papier-mâché beasts and fearful pageant puppets strut their strange stuff.

So, it caused me to think back to my childhood and how differently our family celebrated Halloween 70 years ago in my small town of Trumbull Connecticut!

First though, a little Halloween history may be interesting. The tradition originated with the ancient Celtic festival of Samhain, 2000 years ago. People would light bonfires and wear costumes to ward off ghosts. In the eighth century, Pope Gregory III designated November 1 as a time to honor all saints. Soon, All Saints Day incorporated some of the traditions of Samhain. The evening before was known as All Hallows Eve, and later Halloween. The primary reason for Halloween was to honor religious martyrs, and thus the traditions of ghosts and ghouls. It is only over more than 1300 years that Halloween has evolved into a day of activities like trick-or-treating, carving jack-o-lanterns, festive gatherings, donning costumes and eating treats.

Returning to my childhood in1953 when I was 6 years old, the anticipation of Halloween trick or treating had been building for weeks. My eight year old brother, myself, and my four year old sister (with the help of our parents) hand made our pirate, and baseball, and Baby Jane full body costumes. I was the baseball guy. My dad was a Little League coach and I was called Mickey after Mickey Mantle!

There was a babysitter for my 2 year old sister (and my fourth sibling was still three years away from becoming the family’s fifth child). Every other child in the neighborhood had prepared for the evening with similar intensity and anticipation. And just after dark, parents and children embarked together on the second most anticipated day of the year (of course Christmas was even MORE special). We left our house with parents having flashlights in hand, and the kids grasping Trick or Treat bags. Other parents and kids would join or leave the group as we made the rounds on our three street journey consisting of Ochsner Place, Botsford Place and Bonneville Drive.

Parents would guide us to a house’s sidewalk and we would walk alone, in full costume to the front door and ring the bell. We would wait in anticipation and when the door opened we would shout “Trick or Treat!” and hold open our treat bag. Almost every house would welcome the kids and wave to the parents at the edge of their front walk and dump in the treats of the early 1950’s - Wax Lips, Zagnuts, BB Bats, Wax Bottles, Sky Bars, Candy Cigarettes, Kits Taffy, Jawbreakers, Mary Janes, Sugar Daddy and more. Sometimes they would deposit a quarter as well. Some houses had no lights on as a sure sign that they were not trick or treat friendly. There were certainly no thoughts about ANY negative consequences of being out in the neighborhood, and most parents happily anticipated such an exciting adventure with their kids.

The highlight of the evening was getting back home and dumping out your full candy bags on the kitchen table containing enough sugar to keep us revved up for a couple of weeks. The kids bonded, the parents bonded and the neighborhood bonded over the mutual experience of Halloween evening.

I also remember the joy of duplicating that experience with my own children, in the Brooklawn neighborhood of Fairfield CT. Of course, the candy selection had morphed into M&Ms, Mars, MilkyWay, and licorice (please red, not black). It always seemed like Halloween always arrived on the warmest and most beautiful evening of the fall...

Today I have six amazingly beautiful grandchildren. Their Halloween experience this past week may have been just as fun for them as mine was for me and for my children at their same age. My experience as a kid 70 years ago was the result of a tradition passed down to my parents in the early 1950’s as a door to door neighborhood “trick or treat” tradition. Seven decades later, with instant communication able to organize home or school events, busy two working parent families, and few streets crowded with traffic.

It seems now that Halloween is evolving from knocking on neighborhood doors into Halloween events, like school or home parties, or local fairs and farmer’s markets. As I said in a much earlier published Father’s Blog… in the 1950’s we still had to make operator assisted LOCAL telephone calls! No wonder we wanted to knock on neighbor’s doors and share the excitement of Halloween!

My personal memory of Halloween was such a fun and bonded family evening it may simply be nostalgia calling. I greatly love the relationship I have with my children and greatly admire the relationship they have with their children. And I really appreciate that they are now building traditions of their own.

V2. CH13. OUR THIRD CHILD

Our third child (of four total) and her husband are giving birth to THEIR third child (our 6th grandchild) and it has caused me to imagine what their lives as individuals and as a family might look as THEY experience from now until reaching their own age of 77 as I have! How different will their frame of reference and perspective be in the year 2060 from my life as it exists in the year 2023? What about their children’s lives becoming that age in the year 2095??

Wow, just consider the potential evolution of a few broad categories like education, athletics, entertainment, global events, local and geo-political organization, science, climate change, global migration, entertainment, travel, religion, spirituality, marriage, artificial intelligence, time and space travel, longevity, population growth, energy production and a mind boggling myriad of things which my 77 years on the planet have given me little frame of reference to even contemplate.

My greatest hope would be that our questions about their future would be answered in a way that benefits the least advantaged child of the most disadvantaged population. I believe that that result (prior to some type of interstellar travel migration) will include dramatically reduced population growth, or dramatically increased resources to reduce poverty and foster sustainability. Of course population sustainability might also be the result of voluntary, individual decisions, perhaps stimulated by personal or governmental incentives to do so!

Undoubtedly entertainment, science, geopolitical influence and nearly every aspect of daily life will likely be integrated with AI input, as will be the case with news media in general. I believe that AI and new modes of transportation are likely to be two of the biggest influences that dramatically affect the calculus of any speculation about the future. In addition, nuclear fusion from the sun and the elimination of fossil fuels will likely provide an unlimited, affordable energy source that completely reshuffles the political landscape while having the potential to seriously reduce global poverty.

The most desired, habitable global locations will be increasingly affected by climate change, population migration, and geopolitical harmony as well as personal choice and resources. Unfortunately, geo-political disharmony, personal choice and individual amassing of resources are many of the elements that have created most of the global challenges we face today.

I believe that generally populations will become more spiritual and less religious. Education will be less institutional and focus will be on access to, and discernment of, information and truth. We will dramatically increase our attention to both time and space travel, and the potential of colonization off earth. Habitable planets and existing life forms will also likely be found and verified off earth as well. The children of mine and Susan’s children (our grandchildren) will have birthed their own children by then (our great grand children) who will then begin to birth and parent THEIR children, and so on!! Time is a marvel.

And, from our next embodiment, which we will both inhabit in the relatively near future, Susan and I will welcome them to the enlightenment that every being has the privilege of experiencing in their own extraordinarily brief human form.

I wish you Love.

V2. CH12. CHICKEN STREET COACHING

I am very excited to announce the creation of Chicken Street Coaching (CSC)! CSC will focus on SALES mentorship for the achievement of long term sales career success, applicable for any business, while also helping to foster a robust and genuine personal network.

I love selling! I define this as the presentation of an idea (or product) that engenders enough enthusiastic interest from the listener, to genuinely want to know more about the idea or product presented. I believe that the act, or skill, of selling is a fine balance between:

Introduction (time, place, circumstances, interest)

Response (engagement, phraseology, and body language).

And always, Next Steps (ignore, pursue, timing, and appropriateness)

Introduction is the birth of any potential sale or idea. Response is the evaluation of such interest, and next-step is the unbiased analysis of the appropriate next step of mutual interest. This process applies equally well to building a personal relationship as it does to the physical sale of a product or idea. The process requires unbiased listening to both the initial idea response and the subsequent follow-up of any continuing interest being expressed. The goal is to listen, and remain present while honestly evaluating interest, value and desire.

I believe that selling – the presentation of an idea and listening with both intention and attention – are enormous determining factors in an individual’s quality of life as well as the robustness of their life experience.

I am hereby extending to you an invitation to meet with me as a friend of Chicken Street Coaching while I pursue a more formal coaching certification through Leadership that Works India. The session would be at no expense to you, as the purpose would be for us to have a growth experience together, which I have 100% confidence would be the end result of our time together.

Finally, I am EXTREMELY excited to be able to offer the opportunity to be together either virtually, or at our private Chicken Street Loft location on a magical, inspirational and historic property in Wilton CT. Please contact me with your expression of interest at mickeylistener@yahoo.com.

Here’s to expansion!

At your service, Mickey

V2. CH11. CHICKEN STREET

Chicken art by Lynn Elam Bonge

Sue and I feel like we have been blessed by good fortune our entire lives. Our priorities have been consistent and simpatico since the earliest days of our relationship. They have manifested in remarkably good health, personal happiness, spiritual wellness and fulfillment, and a beautiful extended family. Each of whom have experienced abundant blessings similar to those we have experienced throughout our marriage.

Sue and I are now entering a new chapter in our lives and relationship. We recently chose to sell our big house in Weston, which anchored and has harbored so many of our memories. The house included a cottage on the property where Sue’s mom and dad experienced their elder years. They often shared with us their journey and insight, some of which helped to inform our relationship by sharing their experience and wisdom. That house helped us to raise and shelter our kids while they got their adult legs solidly beneath themselves. And, finally the house provided security and space for our grandchildren, who unfailingly entertained us in a way that only grandchildren are able to do!

Choosing to move and dramatically downsizing was a considered and lengthy process which ultimately proved to be both chaotic and traumatic. Beside the emotional challenge of marketing and selling our home, the physical effort of packing, disposing, donating, and choosing what to keep or not to keep and how to deal with the remainder proved to be a near breaking point of stress.

Once our house finally sold the closing was set in the near future. We quickly and gratefully accepted an extremely generous offer from a close friend who was able to accommodate our housing needs on short notice in a nearby community. Unfortunately, the circumstances of our occupancy on the property ultimately did not represent a long term solution. And so we chose to move again within just a few months of initially moving in. The physical demands and emotional stress after such a short duration between moves proved to be almost impossibly stressful.

Yet, once again, as has so often manifested in our lives, in a moment of extreme need a couple of angels showed themselves to Susan and I! This time disguised as two real estate agents. Actually they were the agents whom we already knew intimately, because they were the very same Angels that had sold our big house for us only a few months earlier!

And so, in a rental market bereft of choices, and almost no time to look, our angel agents found for us…..the Chicken Street House. The Chicken Street house is located on a nearly private 10 acre piece of property in Connecticut between the centers of Georgetown and Wilton in Fairfield County. The land has a significant and historic story (learn something about how Chicken St. got its name below*). The current owner traces her lineage to ancestors who landed at Plymouth rock on the Mayflower! It is quiet, peaceful and populated by beautiful trees and meadows. There are no street sounds but there are plenty of turkeys, deer, fox, and small animals that show themselves regularly and unafraid. The property feels literally like living in a snow globe. In other words, it was exactly what we needed in the moment we needed it.

Our life journey continues to humble and bless us, often seeming to be divinely guided. For now, my overwhelming emotion is gratitude for the unknowable source of love and guidance that continues to bless us.

With gratitude and love, Mickey

*Chicken Street was named for Chief Chicken, a prominent Native American who never actually lived in Wilton. Chickens Warrups, in some accounts referenced as Chicken Warrups or Sam Mohawk, was a Native American who lived in the southwestern part of Connecticut in the late 17th century and 18th century, at the time colonial settlers were establishing town governments, church parishes, and farms in the region. Warrups' name appears on multiple deeds awarding land to colonial settlers. He relocated to the area straddling the border of Connecticut and New York, and was captured by a tribe led by the Sachem Katonah (one of multiple spellings of that name referenced in historical documents). Warrups is thought to have married a daughter of Katonah and relocated to Fairfield, CT. There is dispute as to whether Warrups killed a Native American in Fairfield; he again moved, however, this time several miles north to land that would eventually be included as part of Redding, CT. There, Warrups established a village of Native Americans who had become displaced from other tribal units.

V2. CH10. COACH GUIDE MENTOR FRIEND

I see an opportunity to become a Life Coach. 

I’ve always considered the greatest gift of my professional life to have spent my entire career in the field of Sales.  The act of selling is nothing more, or less, than providing someone with the opportunity to acquire what they want.  I believe coaching provides the same opportunity of having what you want. 

However, my formal experience of coaching consists primarily of being a father   and grandfather helping to advise and mentor my children on the role of being parents to their children.  Obviously there is an enormous difference in the course work of being a Father/Coach from that of being a Client/Coach but it might be worth exploring some of the similarities as well.  The coach’s goal for both relationships is to provide time, attention, availability, perspective, wisdom, tools, analysis, as well as a proposal for positive and mutually beneficial outcomes, including helping to hold accountability.

Above are some of my core beliefs.  My approach to professional coaching might look a lot like my approach to parenting, or my approach to selling.  I believe in the possibility that the positive results in my life have been the combination of circumstances that provided a truthful path to having what it was that I truly wanted anyway!  Also, I believe that honestly sharing wisdom and perspective accumulated through a lifetime of experiences is the ultimate hand-me-down gift.  At this stage in my life, being able to help, being in service of others, is a privilege and an honor. 

Here are some of my Core Beliefs:

1. Truth, honesty, and integrity.  Although all are similar philosophical concepts, I view them as the essential foundational elements of an honest relationship.  I view TRUTH to be an absolute value (although there can be more than one truth within a construct).  I respect HONESTY as a moral commitment and I value INTEGRITY as the active manifestation of core values.

2. Compassion (Empathy). “There but for the grace of God go I.” 

3. Role Modeling (Legacy).  An individuals’ opportunity to influence circumstances by what they DO (not what they say).

4. Gratitude is the active acknowledgment of favorable circumstances.

5. Forgiveness is the active recognition that every wrong can be mitigated by those that have been wronged.  Forgiveness is the opportunity to alter any conflict.

6. Generosity. Giving without the expectation of receiving a corresponding value.                             

Why I would like to offer myself as a Coach --

I have been extra-ordinarily blessed by both the random and intentional circumstances of my life.  And, whether it is a result of randomness or intentionality, a choice to either embrace the moment, or ignore the moment is a requirement of that moment!  I carry empathy and so would coach with empathy.  Only the roads traveled matter.  Regrets and remorse are weights upon a journey, whereas joy and satisfaction are the wings that lift us upon a journey.  Circumstances that I have chosen to embrace have taught me the benefits of being in gratitude.  

Your current circumstances should be suggestions of future opportunities as a primary measure of success and satisfaction.  It is quite possible that the most successful journey may never have an actual end in sight, and that the journey itself is all that matters.  You’ve heard this I’m sure…  Let’s chat, I am here.

V2. CH9. THE TECHNOLOGY PARADOX

This blog is about a technology paradox that has been evolving over the span of the 76 years of my lifetime. The paradox being the evolution of the telephone -- a device which, when assisted, by a third party operator, was able to connect individuals over relatively short distances without either party having to leave their homes -- to becoming the current pocket sized devices whose LEAST impressive capability is the ability to connect a call from virtually anywhere in the world to virtually anywhere else in the world!

Like many dads and moms, granddads and grandmas, and even older than me generations, I am grateful that it has never been easier to communicate with all of my extended family, no matter what location or age they are. It is a joy! Yet I am also increasingly concerned by the exponentially increasing power and influence of these hand held devices commonly known as a “smart phone”.

For me, the challenge actually begins with the label “smart phone”. In reality these are programmed, thoughtless machines that allow the user to easily access zillions of bytes of every type of specific useful (or useless) information, while at the same time enticing its owner into spending hours of potentially addictive time staring at its screen. I am not judging how my children or my children’s children are allowed, or restricted from access to these smartphones. Smartphones are both inanimate AND amazing, and leap years in capability from my childhood experience of land lines, or, if you prefer: “dumb” phones. I am in awe of their capabilities.

Seventy years ago, in my childhood, phones were connected to live operators whose job it was to physically connect a caller to the party being called. Not only was your time on the call limited, unless you were actually on a call the phone was entirely useless! Ultimately, 20 years and the next generation later, the phones my children grew up with had eliminated the need for an operator, and had added features such as “hold”, “call waiting”, and “three-way calling”. Yet, there still remained only the singular function of connecting a call to an individual. Phones remained utilitarian. However, they had become simple enough that even children were capable of easily dialing their own calls, which often frustrated parents who found themselves harassing our kids to GET OFF THE PHONE!

Fast forward twenty more years and my four children were easily communicating on their own personal “cell phones”. These portable phones made it much easier to communicate without being tied to a home phone. The country was just beginning to be populated with cell towers. I actually became one of the first people I knew who even had a Car Phone. I justified the enormous monthly bill as being work related but the truth is, I abused the privilege just because it was such a cool, new technology. Kids were becoming way more independent from their parents, and that privacy for both adults AND children became easily more available. It could be argued that a fundamental change in the family structure was being initiated.

Now, 25 more years later, cell phones have become “smart phones” which have become a nearly essential device for not only communicating but also for entertaining, informing, socializing, competing, determining likes and dislikes, inclusion or exclusion, arbiters of good and bad, and a nearly essential fabric and fact of life at a younger and younger age. More and more content of smartphones compete for more and more of their owner’s time. And, the more we engage in the competition the more we are influenced by the tool -- our “smart phone”!

Not surprisingly, the more you use your smartphone the smarter it gets… about you. Your needs, your desires, your preferences, and the things you would love to own. I think every smartphone user eventually does, or will have, a moment of epiphany when they realize their phone actually knows eerily more about them than they really should.

I do not mean to be cynical. I believe that all of our children are well adjusted and aware of the influences targeting their kids. Their kids (our grandkids) are smart and independent and with guidance from their parents they will do what every generation has done: adapt, evolve, provide, and be in wonderment of all the incredible tools that THEIR grandchildren will have access to.

I am an optimist as I look forward into the nearly unimaginable pace of advancing technology and paradoxical outcomes. As a father, I think our greatest contribution, as well as our greatest obligation, is to teach optimism and faith and act accordingly.

V2. CH8. YES

I often struggle when offered choices, both in the moment of choice, and in consideration of the long term consequences of that choice. 

Do you consider yourself a risk taker?  What do you actually consider when evaluating risk vs reward opportunities?  Is it likely that you evaluate new opportunities based on what you perceive to be earlier, similar choices?  Have you experienced regret about previous decisions you have made in such circumstances?  Do you reflect and celebrate with thankfulness for choices of remarkable good fortune?  

Deeply honest and introspective answers to the questions posed above, and other similar gratitude/disappointment reflections, might determine our general daily happiness/satisfaction sense of well-being.  If traced to their origins, such questions and their answers, are likely the reflections of simple Yes/No decisions.  They were binary decisions with yes signaling willingness and no signaling rejection.  Yes I accept, or no I decline.

I believe that the more often a person says “yes” in FULL CONSIDERATION of the circumstances and potential outcome of an offer, the more likely their life experience will be more robust, satisfying and influential than those that choose to say no in similar circumstances.  

Why then, if saying no eliminates any future potential outcome that saying yes may have provided, do most of us seem to say no so much more often than we say yes?  Is it because saying no, whether it be a difficult or an easy response, is the one that is most likely to be SAFER, INSTANT, EFFORTLESS, WITHOUT RISK or RECRIMINATION and EASILY PLACED IN THE REAR VIEW MIRROR OF OUR FUTURE...?   

Yet saying no also immediately eliminates any of the possibilities that saying yes might have offered. As an example, what if you said no to what might have become a life changing yes response. As an adult you may already have experienced the frustration of having said no to something that turned into a huge benefit for someone else that chose to say yes in similar circumstances!  For you it may have meant that a lost opportunity became regret, while for the other it became a reward.

 We have all said no thousands of times.  And every single no has excluded the possibility of what might have been the result of saying yes.  Most of our no’s were absolutely PERFECT responses in the moment.  Some of them, under certain circumstances, may even have been life saving.  No is one of the most important personal choices we can possibly make.  No can be a complete sentence, period.  My point is that every one of us has probably said no to something because we assumed it would have involved thought, or effort, or attention, or commitment that we simply chose not to make or experience.  

Because it was our default answer to a moment of inattention, inconvenience, laziness or misunderstanding, we never experienced what might have been the result of saying yes!  No most often expresses as an end of consideration, while yes most often expresses a beginning.    

In context of this being a Father’s Blog I have many regrets for having said NO to my children because of a perceived personal inconvenience.  Even more frequently I may have said no because I could not see the request, or opportunity, through my children’s eyes or enthusiasm in the moment, so I defaulted to the no of inconvenience when the yes of opportunity could have become a lifetime memory with my child!

I still remember a decision that I particularly regret from nearly forty years ago.  I had made plans with a friend to take my son to a game at Yankee stadium.  There was great anticipation for weeks before the date, but the morning of the game there was truly miserable weather.  We waited as long as we could to leave for the scheduled afternoon game but at about 11:00am my friend called and said he and his son were going to cancel.  He thought the game would be postponed anyway.  I hesitated for a few minutes before telling my son we were not going to go to the game.  I will never forget the tears welling up in his eyes, his plea to go anyway with his naïve childhood optimism that they surely were going to play as scheduled.  My friend had already decided to cancel, so I had lost my adult company and my son had already lost the company of his friend, but he still wanted to go.  I made the practical and CONVENIENT decision to cancel our long planned adventure.  My son was crestfallen and of course a short while later the sun came out, the game was played and my son’s favorite team won in an exciting extra inning game.  And we missed it.  Although in context it may not have been a big deal, and my son obviously has gotten over it, saying yes at that moment 40 years ago would have replaced a regret I still experience 40 years later.

Of course, Robert Frost expressed this dilemma in his timeless poem The Road Not Taken (always worth re-reading).  I am experiencing these regrets in retrospect.  Most parents do!  The repeating, obvious lesson here is that in life generally, and in parenthood specifically, try to just say YES as often as possible.

In Gratitude, Mickey

The Road Not Taken

By Robert Frost 1874-1963

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

V2. CH7. TINY COTTAGE

After nearly 20 years in our beautiful home in Weston CT, our move is now complete!

In addition to relocating to a new home in NY, about an hour north of NYC - which now makes us residents of a different state (albeit just a couple of miles over the CT line) - we have also moved into a very unique, small, fairy tale cottage on a private dirt road bordering a country club.  Yet, our new location over time will likely represents the SMALLEST component of the many new changes bound to affect our futures.  We are both extremely excited and eager to begin this transitional journey!

Our new cottage home is approximately 1200 sq ft residence on a beautiful property.  It is quaint, quirky, lovable and really, really, tiny.  One of the most significant realizations that Susan and I are coming to understand is that this new home is all about us and our future lifestyle.  We have been beyond grateful that our last home was always the epicenter of activity for all four generations of our family (Mom and Dad, Susan and I, four children, and five grandchildren).  It is clearly now time for us to focus on each other!  We have been blessed by our family and they are in our hearts every minute of every day… but it is now time for reflection, refreshment and a little bit of self satisfaction, as well as retirement. 

It is also true that it is clearly time for us to pass the proverbial generational torch.  We are incredibly proud of all of our children… and we believe that our CT home and property had a lot to do with their upbringing.  The mature and passionate parenting they all now exhibit, and the love of family and home that they all are manifesting, is our proudest legacy.  It is time for Susan and I to step away and look forward to being invitees to the homes of our children, instead of the other way around.  And, occasionally, invite them to stop at our little fairy tale cottage for a cuppa and a chat, as well as a hug with our grandchildren to hear their stories of daily accomplishment.

Meanwhile we plan on doing a little traveling, reconnecting with each other a little more at the soul level, and move out of the “go/do” cycle and identify and pursue passions that motivate our interests and spark our hearts.  We need to appreciate and acknowledge each other for our hard and joyful parenting and trust that our children will find a way to honor us as both parents and mentors, which truly has been the honor of our lives (so far!).  Be well and thank you for reading, and commenting if you want to share your thoughts.