Status Symbol Unlocked: Enjoying Family Vacations

New status symbol now unlocked: I have reached the point in my life where I look forward to, and truly enjoy, family vacations.

Last summer when we travelled to Oregon, I thought it might have just been a fluke. But no, as a 43 year-old husband married to a 43 year-old wife, along with our 14 year-old son and 8 year-old daughter, we are collectively in a place where family vacations are fun, relaxing, and meaningful.

This past week while we were on family vacation, I was intensely aware of the fact that “these are the good old days”…

As I took each photo of my family in real time, it was not lost on me that I already have everything I want and need right here in front of me. That this is what happily ever after looks like.

I am not looking to the future for things to finally “get better”. No, we have now arrived at our destination.

The entire vacation itself has become the “highlight reel”, as opposed to me finding the best exceptional moments in a week-long series of trigger points for my blood pressure to rise and then for me to emotionally shut down.

No more whining in the backseat. No more fighting over which child “gets to sit next to Mommy” at the restaurant. No more annoying drawn-out bath time or bedtime routines.

No more diapers. No more sippy cups. No more strollers. No more car seats. No more naps.

I have graduated from all of that.

Um… so this is great.

Monday morning, I drove a little over 5 hours to the Gulf Coast, while the kids slept in the backseat and as my wife read us the book, The Let Them Theory.

Then we stayed in a condo right there on the water, but not on one of those overcrowded beaches where loud drunk people would ruin the ambience. Even when we did leave for coffee or lunch, we never needed to drive more than a few miles away.

No traffic. No paying to park. No silly “Lightning Lane” passes.

By the 2nd day of our trip, I told my wife, “This is something beyond a family vacation. This is a family retreat.”

It was very noticeable that each of the 4 of us were truly at ease and connected with one another. No distractions. No obligations. Nothing to be but ourselves.

And I think for me specifically, I needed to see what this looks like.

For years now, I have studied, researched, and even published a book on Enneagram. I am fascinated to learn who everyone is underneath how they behave on the outside.

I love being able to understand how to relate better with all people in my life, but especially my own family.

It is a gift for me to be able see my wife and my kids, as well as myself, for who we fundamentally and individually are. I think that’s a lot of the reason why our Spring Break vacation felt like a family retreat. It’s not just about the kids being less needy and more mature.

Instead, it’s because nearly a year into our move from Tennessee and essentially “rebooting” our lives in a slower pace in Alabama, the fog has cleared. I think all of us are able to see each other in a new light.

My 2 Wing 3 wife and daughter are ambitious, selfless, and sociable.

My 5 Wing 4 son is curious, creative, and reserved.

And much to my surprise, yet no one else’s, I am actually 8 Wing 7: pragmatic, assertive, and charismatic.

So as far as status symbols go, I don’t need a fancy car or a big mansion or expensive clothes. Just let me live a life where I can actually enjoy vacations with my family.

That’s enough for me.

Look No Further

 

I can’t think of anything I want. I can’t think of anything I need. I can’t think of what would make my life complete that I don’t have already here in front of me. And I look no further.

That is the point I have reached in life. To be fair, it’s more than a simply accurate assessment of my life, that I suddenly have an awareness of. Just as important, it is an acknowledgement of an arrival to a destination; decades into a journey.

The first four decades of my life were mainly punctuated by questions marks:

“What will it be like when I’m not a kid anymore? Where will I go to college? What should I major in? Where should I move after college? What will my actual career be? Who will I marry? How do I be a good husband? How do I be a good father? What is the meaning of life, anyway?”

But now, my life is punctuated with periods. I don’t really have any questions anymore. And the questions I do have about life… well, no human can honestly know the answer to.

I am not famous. I am not a millionaire. Yet I have more than so many famous millionaires do. If for no other reason, simply because I am not under the belief I that I need to finish the sentence:

“I’ll be happy when…”

Instead, I recognize that if I can’t be happy in the present, I can never truly be happy in the future.

It makes me think of a movie that my wife and I watch at least once every year: This is 40.

Paul Rudd’s wife’s character sets up the premise of the movie as she explains to him:

“The happiest period in people’s lives is from age 40 to 60… So this is it. We’re in it right now. We have everything we need right now to be completely happy. We’re gonna blink and be 90. So let’s just choose to be happy.”

I also am thinking of Jewish comedian Marc Maron as he explains his understanding of Christianity, in his HBO special, From Bleak to Dark:

“Everything will be amazing… when you’re dead.”

I can appreciate his perspective. Perhaps there is too much emphasis on all of our problems going away when either A) Jesus saves us from all of our annoying problems by showing up in the Rapture, or B) we ideally die in our sleep and get to live in the eternal bliss of Heaven.

While I have definitely placed in my faith in the Christian hope that there is a much better life after this one, I have also challenged my belief system by asking myself the question:

“But what if this is all there is?”

In the event that I just die and that’s it… no further consciousness nor accountability, no memories of this life nor connection to the people I knew in it… I would certainly consider that to be a confusing, cosmic tragedy- that life was nothing more grandiose.

But if that were indeed the case, the question becomes this:

“What about my life would change right now, as I am still alive? What would I do differently?”

My answer: Nothing.

As sad of a thought it would be to never see my loved ones again, the greater sorrow would be to live this gift of a human life on Earth while not making the most of every moment and not appreciating what I do have with the people I share it with.

I think of how my daughter has a microwavable baby doll that she places in our bed to keep safe while she is away at school during the day: “Daddy, Gracie is basically a real baby.” I love it.

I think of how my wife and I set up a reservation for Valentine’s Day last week at a fancy restaurant with an amazing view off the side of Lookout Mountain… but then it was so foggy we were not able to even see anything anyway. I love it.

I think of how this past Sunday I walked into the living room to see my son wearing a monkey jumpsuit while throwing his sister onto a giant beanbag. I love it.

I think of how every morning before work and school, I see my wife and daughter having “coffee time” before the day begins. I love it.

But what I can’t think of…

I can’t think of what would make my life complete that I don’t have already here in front of me.

And I look no further.

“Shotgun” – Song 11 – Enneagram 6 Songwriter – Analyzing Lyrics – Themes of Belonging and Security

My 11th song, “Shotgun”, was the first released during The Covid Lockdown; on March 20th, 2020. Perhaps I started becoming more inspired to write about my relationship with my wife during this time. In fact, I pitched this song to her, as a duet. But she decided she wanted me to do this one alone.

“Shotgun” is a song I wrote to point out the near absurdity in betting the rest of your life on spending it with another person… for better and for worse.

I chose the term “shotgun” in connection of the phrase “shotgun wedding”. Even though my wife and I didn’t have a rushed wedding, in the grand scheme of things, it can still seem that way to some degree:

Know a person for a year or so, and then you take one “shot” on them by choosing to commit your life to them; hoping the other person is as committed as you are, no matter what lies ahead.

As an Enneagram 6, I am wired to crave and to provide stability and security. These lyrics show a glimpse into the way I arguably “overthink” every situation:

“I’ve got my finger on the trigger, but just one bullet in the chamber – For better or for worse, forever – Until death do we part – Staring down the barrel of a shotgun against my shoulder – Praying that I’m solid in my aim – I can’t afford to miss it, either it is or isn’t – Neither of us will ever be the same – Best case scenario, we both grow old until one of us dies and leaves the other all alone – Happily ever after, celebrations and disasters – Sweet and sour, I ain’t going nowhere – Anti-climatic, existential crisis, comic, tragic – Why are we still here? I don’t have all the answers but I’ve made my peace with God – I’m taking you with me into the great beyond – Hallelujah”

So looking back on this song I wrote over 2 years ago, can you see how I am a loyalist and a skeptic? Can you see my longing for security and confirmation of my own existence; which shows my true Enneagram is actually a 6?

Feel free to leave a comment. I’d love to hear your thoughts!

And now you can listen to the song, below, if you wish:

 

Dear Holly: Your Ability to Make Friends Instantly

5 years, 6 months.

Dear Holly,

In my mind, you are a quiet little girl, outside of our home. That’s how I imagine you.

But maybe not…

Because you have this habit of bonding very quickly with other girls your age.

Like this week when we were taking your brother to Taekwondo; as we were opening the door, I heard someone shout out, “Holly!”

She ran over to you and hugged you; then she touched your hair, saying, “Look Holly, we have the same color hair!” And the two of you giggled like besties.

Turns out; she’s in your P.E. class at school.

I remember this happening after your 1st first ballet class, as well. I heard, “Holly! Give me a hug before you go!”

When we got back to the Jeep, I asked where you knew that girl from.

“From dance class. I just met her today, Daddy.”

I have a feeling this will be normal for you: The ability to immediately befriend other little girls your age.

Love,

Daddy

Dear Holly: You Were the Flower Girl in a Wedding This Weekend

5 years, 4 months.

Dear Holly,

It’s been a year and a half in the making: Finally, this past weekend you were the flower girl of my friend Kaylie’s wedding in Arcadia, Indiana.

I’m not sure who was prouder: you, or me.

You looked like such a doll in your flower girl dress.

You loved getting to be not only part of the wedding ceremony itself, but also being able to join in all the fun at the reception.

It was a special time in your life, and even though you’re only 5 years old, I believe you will always look back at our trip to Indiana with fond memories.

 

Love,

Daddy