People

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Being Your Own Life Coach

Some people hire life coaches; the rest of us keep that kind of stuff in the closet, serving as our own life coaches, with a little help from the model citizen.

What is a model?  My definition: the best case scenario.  Something we’re least likely to exactly duplicate, yet it’s a poster we hang up in the back of our mind to inspire us, whether it’s of a person or simply an abstract idea.

And in the process of possibly never reaching that near-impossible goal, the irony is that we likely become the model for someone else.  And I must strip away any emotion or sentimentality that may try to attach itself to this idea.  I must erase any memory of some lame e-mail forward I received in 2001 that said, “To the world, you may not be anyone.  But to one person, you may be the world,” complete with a picture of a glossy, sparkly kitten with angel wings.

Simply put, I have “life models” that I keep track of.  I always have.

The guy friends I wanted to be like in college, the ones that appeared confident, yet not cocky, the ones that were gentlemen, not agenda-minded tools, those people life models to me several years ago.  While holding true to myself, I took special notice of their demeanor, behavior, and actions and made then my own.

And it worked.  Without directly knowing it, they helped shape me into the guy I needed to become, the guy that would later be able to captivate the attention and affection of the girl that previously I wouldn’t have been able to; that being my wife, of course.

By keeping watch of several life models (as I still continue to do, especially now specifically of other young fathers) I in turn become a better person.  Because I surely don’t mature and advance in life simply by my own direction.

Who are these life models I collect in my mind?  To anyone else, they appear as average-looking people with no attention-grabbing talents or obvious life accomplishments.  But when I think of them, as they serve as motivation to get me through any major or mundane task, I think to myself, “If they can do it, so can I”.

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Assigned Seats: Many Friendships We Have are “Forced”

It’s a little something I call “forced friendship”.

It was always a bittersweet moment when as an elementary school student, I would walk into the classroom Monday morning and realize that my desk was on the other side of the room.  I would now be sitting next to other kids that I hadn’t necessarily been around much before.  This also meant I would no longer be sitting close to the friends I had made while at my previously assigned seat.

Boy, this is just a life metaphor waiting to happen.  Don’t beat me to the punch…

Do we choose our friends?  Yes.  But so often, by default.  Whether because of proximity through work, school, church, current circles of friends, or even marrying into a family, we find ourselves in what I call “forced friendships”.

And I don’t say that like it’s a bad thing.  It’s good.

I use the word “forced” because the reality of friendship is that we don’t usually go out to places looking for friends.  Friends just happen.  We end up in the same place at the same place, often on a reoccurring basis.  And in each location, the people that have the most in common or whose personalities compliment each other the most, are naturally going to become friends.

It’s not typical for one person to walk up to another person that they barely know and say, “Let’s be friends.”  Because it’s much more natural to let the Assigned Seats of Destiny direct us in our human relationships.

The concept of forced friendship became apparent to me in 2008, the year that my sister got married in January, and I in July, just six months apart.  In the same year, I gained a brother-in-law (my sister’s husband) on one side of the family, then seven brothers-in-law (my wife’s brothers) and two sisters-in-law (my wife’s sisters).  Before 2008, I had no in-laws at all.  In a matter of six months, I acquired plenty of them.

And through that process, the ones I have spent the most time with became the ones I obviously know the best, and therefore, have the strongest friendships with.  We are family by marriage, but that doesn’t take away at all the friendship aspect of it.

Each one brings out different sides of my personality, hobbies, and interests.  As we reflect our similarities and common ties.

For example, my sister’s husband Andrew and I are just a few years apart, having grown up playing the same old school Nintendo games, both having grown up in Alabama, and both obsessed with LOST.  In fact, he’s the reason my sister started watching LOST, which is why I am now obsessed.  Throughout the week, we send each other stupid website links and YouTube videos.  The perfect combination of a brother and a good friend.

On the other end of the brother-in-law spectrum, there is Tom up in Pennsylvania, who is the husband of my wife’s 2nd oldest sister.  We only see each other about twice a year and there is about a 10 year age difference between us.  In fact, he and my wife’s sister got married when I was in Junior High and they had their first kid the year I graduated high school.

Yet we have a whole lot in common.  When our wives are together, we let them catch up.  And we just do our own thing.  Whether it’s playing cards, shooting pool, watching movies, or playing with the kids.  We live the laid-back life together.

Being around him is like that seeing my life ten years into the future.  What little recent experience I have being around kids is from his two daughters.  I watch carefully how he talks and interacts with them.  His calm-assertiveness gives them the direction they need while still keeping the environment positive and loving.

Having the ability to choose isn’t everything.  Sometimes it’s better for someone or something else to make our decisions and life plans for us.  The funny thing is, the friendships I have sought out after never seem to last, like a trend or a fad.  If anything, those friendships are the ones that actually ended up feeling forced.

Whereas the forced friendships have always seemed natural.  So there we have it, friendship is a force.  And with all there is to gain from forced friendships, I can’t help but be thankful for assigned seats.

Similar post from the same author: The Invisible Touch, Yeah (The 2nd Installment)

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dad from day one: Baby Bean’s Heartbeat

Twelve weeks.

We have a new doctor.  Actually, a group of them: Midwife nurses (http://www.vanderbiltnursemidwives.org/).  Things are the exact opposite as they were at the other place.  It’s so important to know that the people taking care of us actually care about us. Friendly, informative, patient people there to help us.  Last week for our visit, we got to hear the heartbeat for the fist time, thanks to a Doppler device.

Whoot-whoot.  Whoot-whoot. Like listening to the sound effects of an Atari game played in a submarine.  A bit eerie, a bit awesome.

Our baby’s heartbeat is 150.  Supposedly, that’s typically the speed of a female heartbeat.

In addition to trying to wrap my mind around the fact that I am responsible for causing another human’s heart to beat, creating physical life, I am also fathoming the thought that I am responsible for causing a soul to exist as well.

It’s just a theory, and not even an important theological one at that, but I believe that the soul is passed on through the man, not the woman.  Jesus’s father was the Holy Spirit, not Joseph.  While his mother Mary was completely human.  And Jesus didn’t have a sin nature like his half-brothers and sisters born after him.

I take a certain verse quite literally, Romans 5:12, that says, “Therefore, just as through one man sin entered into the world, and death through sin, and so death spread to all men, because all sinned”.

Humankind wasn’t cursed when Eve ate the Forbidden Fruit.  It wasn’t until she offered it to Adam and he ate it that God kicked them out of Paradise, took away their eternal life, caused women to have labor pains, and forced men to have to work hard for their food.

From that point on, the human soul (complete with a natural tendency to do wrong) has been passed on through all generations through the man, with the exception of Jesus who was fathered by the Holy Spirit.

So if that theory is indeed correct (and no one in this lifetime can know for sure), then I accept the gravity of it, as best as I physically can: Another human being with an eternal, spiritual soul, will take its first breath this coming November because of me.  (Of course, Lord willing.)

The word “legacy” is an understatement here.

All pictures with the “JHP” logo were taken by Joe Hendricks Photography:

Blog- www.photojoeblog.com

Website- www.joehendricks.com

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Let’s Go to Kentucky

Why, Kentucky, why?

 When my wife and I spend money on ourselves other than for basic needs, it’s pretty much on one thing.  Not cable, not Internet, not sports events, not fancy clothes, not electronics.  What’s left?  Trips.  And what determines where we go?  B&B’s.  Bed and Breakfast’s.

A near cliché phrase is “life is a journey, not a destination”.  And that’s the basic concept of why we go to B&B’s.  Though we love going to Louisville for an easy weekend trip, we knew the Kentucky Derby would be going on, so thanks to some Internet research, my wife found a B&B in a place called Burnside, KY.

The only reason I recognized the name of the town was because I knew that sideburns derived from General Ambrose Burnside, a Scottish-American who had some of the worst sideburns in the history of the world.  And Burnside, KY was named after the man.  http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ambrose_Burnside

We were asked, “But what’s in Burnside, KY?  What’s there to do or see there?”

Our answer: “The B&B.”  That is THE reason.

I have written before about how some go on vacations or mini-vacations to be busy somewhere surrounded by other people, and the rest of us go off somewhere to be left alone, enjoying the quiet and peace (The Opposite of a Beach Bum).  The whole point of going to a B&B is because there is indeed, for the most part, nothing to do.

Of course I did a Wikipedia search on Burnside, KY before we left (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Burnside,_Kentucky).  I ended up finding out that right outside of Burnside, in Stearns, there is a 3 hour passenger train ride.  So that ending up being our only adventurous activity.

And for only $18 per person, we didn’t have our standards set as high as the Monorail at Epcot Center.  Instead, it reminded me more of the kind of train ride a person would expect that takes them through a zoo.  A cross between trolley bus and a boat designed for the chute ride at a local amusement park.

Halfway through the 16 mile train ride, we were dropped off for a while at an extinct coal mining town.  We sort of hiked and explored the area, in the pouring rain, for a while.  Checked out the hilarious gift shop.  And passed on getting chili dogs at the concession stand.  Like a standard weird dream.

Back at the Bed and Breakfast (http://eaglesviewbnb.com/breakfast.htm), as it continued to pour and flood outside, we took advantage of the cozy Gatlinburg-esque cabin and cable TV, which to us, was a luxury.  Especially while watching House Hunters on HDTV and Dogs 101 on Animal Planet.

Demographically, most B&B connoisseurs are over the age of 50.  We realize that being under the age of 30 means that we must be middle-aged at heart.  Even our honeymoon two years ago was a series of B&B’s from Maine to Connecticut.  But for us, this is the best way we can spend money on ourselves. Because the way we see it, nothing lasts longer than good memories.

And even though our memories will eventually begin to fade, that’s why we take plenty of pictures.

This picture has been made anatomically correct, made noticeable when examined closely.

A bridge going over the river that the train travelled along side, and that our B&B overlooked.

I’m gonna throw a hissy fit if I don’t get one of these…

Gettin’ lucky in Kentucky.

I don’t care how much this costs, I’m buying it! Nothing could possibly go wrong…

Hey, how did that bird dress shirt I gave to Grandma end up in this gift shop?

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The Nashville Flood of 2010

As my wife and I drove back to Nashville from a B&B in Burnside, KY on Sunday afternoon, we began receiving texts and calls from friends warning us to stop wherever we were and stay in a hotel for the night.  All three of the major interstates going through Nashville were closed (I-24, I-40, I-65) and that most exits were shut down as well.  Nashville was undergoing a flood.

So we took the next exit, which was White House, TN, not far from the Kentucky border.  Churches had all cancelled.  School the next day was cancelled.  Houses were being destroyed.  People were drowning.

And we had no way to even get to our own house.  So in our room in the Holiday Inn Express, we watched the local news try to sort out what was going on.  The Opryland Hotel, which was scheduled to have a huge conference this week, not only had to cancel all its festivities, but also send away all his guests.

Thank God, our house went untouched by the flood, though just a few miles away, the town center was underwater.  One of the most memorable events we watched was when the local news covered the flood from their helicopter.  As they were filming the parking lot of the Opry Mills mall, which for all practical purposes had became a lake, the cameraman spotted a minivan with two people on top of it.

The water was up to the top of the windows.  They appeared to be a middle-aged Korean couple.  The husband was standing up, waving a red shirt up at the helicopter as his wife remained lying down, appearing to be exhausted from trying to remain on top of the minivan all night in the pouring rain.

About a quarter of a mile away, there were two men driving a motorboat.  As everyone watching from home had hoped, eventually the men in the boat rescued the stranded couple.

When we first saw the man on the van, he was wearing no pants- just his underwear and a shirt.  But by the time the boat got closer, he slipped his pants back on.  My guess is that his rain-soaked pants were keeping him cold, so he just took them off until he realized he was actually being rescued.

Based on their interactions, it appeared the couple didn’t speak much English.  I would love to know the whole story.  That had to be one horrible night for them.

Though we were able to make it back to our house safely on Monday since most roads have reopened, unfortunately, so far around 18 deaths have been confirmed.  And there are countless people who lost their homes and did not have flood insurance, being that Nashville is a low-risk area for floods.

Here is an article telling more about the Nashville Flood of 2010:

http://www.startribune.com/nation/92657684.html?elr=KArksLckD8EQDUoaEyqyP4O:DW3ckUiD3aPc:_Yyc:aUUsZ

And one more thing… Now that you’ve read my take on this, why not read my perspective on being a dad?  That’s right- parenting from a dad’s point of view.  I have been documenting my thoughts as a dad since the week we found out my wife was pregnant.  I formally invite you now to read my “dad blog” by clicking on the link below:

dad from day one