The Picture in the Mirror

It’s easy to critique a picture…

We throw stones. Big ones. Don’t we? We hurl them as hard and as far as we can! And it usually feels good! We look for validation of our own actions, our own humanity hidden among the defects, the secrets, and the faults of others. It is easy to look closely at a picture and do just this. We find those things we want to see, those things we need to see.

Can you do the same with a mirror?

As the year comes to an end, we hear people talking about the future and the past. We hear about New Year’s resolutions and reflections from the past year. When we reflect on the last year we take a look into the proverbial mirror of our own life. Sometimes we are our own worst critic and sometimes we stand so close to the mirror we are unable or unwilling to see our own shortcomings. We can use these reflections to change our lives.

An old adage says that people resist change but there is an equally as popular one that says we embrace tradition. The changing of the calendar offers us a chance to shake our personal Etch A Sketch, erase the past, and make a conscious decision to do something, anything, differently this year.

Look in the mirror and find yourself. I did.

One Year To The Day...

On December 19, 2007 I sat down and tearfully explained - to a woman I had never met, knew little about, yet longed for quite terribly – why I was reaching out to her after all these years. I mark that date as the true beginning and the start of the last of my many searches for my birthmother. On that cold wintry Wednesday evening by myself, I embarked on a short journey of a trip I had waited my entire life to take.

I have spent very little time with other adoptees. I have felt alone in my own personal battles up until I found a book called Adoption Healing by Joe Scoll. Great read and highly recommended for anyone involved in adoption or even in a relationship with someone who is involved in adoption. It really opens your eyes to just how fucked up we are; but I digress. My personal experiences with other adoptees have been limited to a few conversations with my search specialist, one adoptee, and the aforementioned book. Always looking for social normalcy and confirmation of my own life, I yearned for more of these encounters.

Over the summer I had the opportunity to meet a girl named Tara. It was far from love at first sight. We didn’t even hit it off that well. Few words were exchanged that night and I knew not who she was or her story. Through a random encounter with a friend of hers at a sandwich shop some time later, we exchanged information and agreed to a get-together of some sort - at some time, and left it at that. Months later it was on. We had agreed to a time and place and the three of us, plus a few others, were going to go have some drinks and call it a night on the town. Through random conversation over wine that night, I quickly realized how this person sitting at the table next to me had endured and faced such a similar life. It was on the table: she was adopted. And like me, she had searched and found her birth mother this past year. Due of the dynamics of the evening it was challenging to continue the conversation I couldn’t let go. The evening ended even though the story had not.

Faced with family, schedules, and responsibilities it was some time before we would be able to meet again. Through complete random chance, on December 19, 2008 I found myself sitting alone with the one person who could understand better than anyone what the last year of my life had entailed. Tara and I shared our respective stories and I found solace in her familiar fears, her experiences, her joys, all along knowing that our parallel paths had converged on that once distant horizon of our respective lives.

Here is to December 19th and all of my brothers and sisters through adoption!

Vodka - Part 2

Where to start? I guess when I'm done laughing at myself I might come up with something clever to say. I thought about editing the post; maybe make it a little less "drunk". I even considered deleting it altogether and pretending it never happened. I mean, not that many people have seen it yet, right?

The last year of my life has been pretty interesting in many ways. Due to several life changing events I’ve had the opportunity to grow as a person in some very positive ways. While the post below may seem oxymoron-ish to the statement above, I’d like to try to tie them together.

I believe people are - for the most part - good. I think we try to do the right thing, which results in happiness, and we all want to be happy. I believe and grip this philosophy. I’m genuinely a happy person full of energy and life. But this doesn’t mean I don’t still do stupid things from time to time – I do. But I live with very few regrets; I’m not saying I don’t have regrets either, because - I do. But I can’t do anything with a regret, other than regret it. I typically can’t take back an action or choice. I can’t undo what I did. But what I can do is learn from my experiences – and I’ve been learning a lot and learning the hard way! These experiences have and are molding me into the person I am becoming and the one I want to be – and I’m really starting to like this guy! With that said, I’m opting to share the bad with the good and not edit or delete my drunk post – that’s definitely a part of who I am and I’m embracing my actions and saying, yep, that’s me! Enjoy!

…did I hear someone say tequila?

Drunk Blogging!!!

F'ing A!!!!

After a pletheora - f'it, i'm drunk, I don't need to know how to spell, much less try to use big words for YOU - after a pelethora (spelled differenly on purpose to prove I'm only have drunk) of drunk emails sent tonight to people who probably should not be getting emails from ME - I decided to make a blog post. Why the f- not? Seriously, we all do it from time to time, and I figured I could look back at this when I was sober and go, wow, Tony, you really need to lock up the Vodka, because that shit works! Either that or come up with a password that any drunk guy - or sober guy for that matter can hack! Well, this has been fun and that's about all I got, off to make another vodka/7 and delete some more old emails. Hope you all enjoy as much as I will tomorrow! Oh, why do I get the feeling this is going to hurt?

Peace out, N1!~

My First 10K!

I’ve never been a runner. I think the combination of relatively slow speeds, lack of adrenaline creating situations, and constant physical output required sort of ranked it up there with a weekend visit to the (now former) in-laws. My turning point happened just this summer. In an attempt to get back the single body I’ve never had (inside joke: I’ve not been single since I was a kid) and I think, initially, to impress a girl – I ran.

The first run was 3 miles. Pre run jitters told me I might as well be running the Boston Marathon – 3 miles? Seriously, that’s far in a car! But I sucked it up and ran. It wasn’t that bad, in fact, I made the entire run without walking! For reasons still unknown to me I started to enjoy running. In a matter of weeks I got past the point of “I’m going to die, this sucks!” and slipped into the “ok, if I head straight home after work I should be able to do the loop around my neighborhood before….” It was turning into an addiction. I was buying new shoes, special socks, and shorts with underwear stitched in the crotch! I was running frequently and adding distance and hills to my route. It was fun!

A friend who has done a lot of sponsored runs suggested I join their group for an upcoming 10K Halloween based “Pumpkin Run” – how could I say no?

It was an awesome experience – full of adrenaline and fun people! I have no doubt more will be in my future! Training for 13.1!

Oh God No! Not a Religious Post!

While my religious beliefs are just that - my own - I can, and do, appreciate humor. Even religious humor found amid church billboards trying to coerce us in their doors. The following is a collection of real-world examples found along the roads of the Midwest:

GOD ANSWERS KNEE-MAIL

GOD WORKS IN THE LOST AND FOUND DEPARTMENT

YOU TAKE ETERNITY: SMOKING OR NON-SMOKING?

CONSIDERING CATHALOSIM? HERE’S A SIGN

FORBIDDEN FRUIT CREATES MANY JAMS

TRY OUR SUNDAYS. THEY ARE BETTER THAN BASKIN-ROBINS.

“DON’T MAKE ME COME DOWN THERE” – GOD

WHAT PART OF “THOU SHAULT NOT….” DIDN’T YOU UNDERSTAND – GOD

KEEP USING MY NAME IN VAIN, I’LL MAKE RUSH HOUR LONGER – GOD

PREVENT TRUTH DECAY, BURSH UP ON YOUR BIBLE

WAL-MART ISN’T THE ONLY SAVING PLACE!

Seen in front of a church promoting Sunday morning coffee/donuts: Je-ho-va’s Java

The Goal

"You miss 100% of the shots you never take."
Wayne Gretzky

Live, Laugh, and Love

"I hope your dreams take you... to the corners of your smiles, to the highest of your hopes, to the windows of your opportunities, and to the most special places your heart has ever known."

~Unknown

Nicholas Sparks

I realize I don’t quite fit the demographics for his novels. That doesn’t bother me. I rather enjoy telling people, “Actually, I have read every book Nicholas Sparks has written.” Women usually say, “Really?” as they furrow their brow and question my sexuality; while most guys are like, “Who?” Aside from the ability to tout such an accomplishment, I do in fact enjoy his sappy North Carolina based romantic love stories where the guy always gets the girl – even if he loses her in the end. I’m not ashamed of being a hopeless romantic. Don’t get me wrong, I still love the smell of 2-stroke motor oil and have considered wearing WD-40 as cologne; I just happen to find his work entertaining.

Yesterday marked a banner day for all Nicholas Sparks fans as his 14th book, “The Lucky One” went on sale! I promptly made my way to Borders after work and have the 326 pages of hardbound bliss in my grubby little mitts! Unfortunately, I have to finish another book before I will allow myself to start this one. Talk about motivation for finishing a book you've not been enjoying! I just hope one box of Kleenex is enough!

Marriage

Marriage hath in it less of beauty but more of safety, than the single life; it hath more care, but less danger, it is more merry, and more sad; it is fuller of sorrows, and fuller of joys; it lies under more burdens, but it is supported by all the strengths of love and charity, and those burdens are delightful.

-Bishop Jeremy Taylor

I offer this quote to my sister and her new husband as they start their journey through life together. My best wishes and support are with you both!

Additional pictures: http://ericaandcurt.shutterfly.com/

Music

According to our friends over at Wiki: Music is an art form in which the medium is sound organized in time. Common elements of music are pitch (which governs melody and harmony), rhythm (and its associated concepts tempo, meter, and articulation), dynamics, and the sonic qualities of timbre and texture. The word derives from Greek μουσική (mousike), "(art) of the Muses".

To me, music rates up there with food and water, maybe even air. I try to surround myself with music as often as I can and sleep with my stereo on every night. It started out as an escape from my world. Songs would allow me to enter their world - the worlds created by my song selection. The worlds that were better than mine, worse than mine, and different from mine; worlds that were full of the emotions I wanted and needed. I still think music fulfills some of these deepest needs and ultimately makes me feel better; a sort of self-prescribed dosage of Paxil if you will.

Music has the ability to make me laugh, to make me cry, to wake me up, to put me to sleep, to make me happy and make me sad, to move me and stop me in my tracks, it has been there when no one else was and is present when I’m with all my friends, it has taken my breath and helped me breathe, it has filled me with love and been there when I lost love. Music has never failed me and so I shall continue to listen.

I love all types of music, but most often find myself listening to alternative rock, country, 80’s, and folk. Anything acoustic gets me – it just seems so real.

Creating a top 10 list proved to be more challenging than I expected. So many artists are incredible in their own way, but the following are ones I have either seen in concert or never tire of listening to:

Cartel
Counting Crows
The Cure
Damien Rice
Death Cab for Cutie
Indigo Girls
Lifehouse
Midnight Oil
Train
Vertical Horizon

To A Friend

Edna St. Vincent Millay

"I shall forget you presently, my dear"

I shall forget you presently, my dear,
So make the most of this, your little day,
Your little month, your little half a year,
Ere I forget, or die, or move away,
And we are done forever; by and by
I shall forget you, as I said, but now,
If you entreat me with your loveliest lie
I will protest you with my favorite vow.
I would indeed that love were longer-lived,
And vows were not so brittle as they are,
But so it is, and nature has contrived
To struggle on without a break thus far,
Whether or not we find what we are seeking
Is idle, biologically speaking.

Edit: To the PA friend. I'm sorry if you thought this was harsh, it was not intended to be. I think it was recieved exactly as it was intended. Nevertheless, the following might be more approriate and fitting.

....

If you wait for me then Ill come for you
Although I’ve traveled far
I always hold a place for you in my heart
If you think of me, if you miss me once in awhile
Then Ill return to you
Ill return and fill that space in your heart

Remembering
Your touch
Your kiss
Your warm embrace
Ill find my way back to you
If you’ll be waiting
If you dream of me like I dream of you
In a place that’s warm and dark
In a place where I can feel the beating of your heart

Remembering
Your touch
Your kiss
Your warm embrace
Ill find my way back to you
If you’ll be waiting
I’ve longed for you and I have desired
To see your face your smile
To be with you wherever you are

Remembering
Your touch
Your kiss
Your warm embrace
Ill find my way back to you
If you’ll be waiting
I’ve longed for you and I have desired
To see your face, your smile
To be with you wherever you are

Remembering
Your touch
Your kiss
Your warm embrace
Ill find my way back to you
Please say you’ll be waiting

Together again
It would feel so good to be
In your arms
Where all my journeys end
If you can make a promise if its one that you can keep, I vow to come for you
If you wait for me and say you’ll hold
A place for me in your heart.

She Gave Me Away

An amazing friend of mine recently introduced me to Mark Schultz. He is a christian songwriter and singer who was adopted. He wrote a song for his birth mother that I really enjoyed. The following you tube videos are of him describing the story behind the song (remember, I love getting the story) and the actual song. I'll also post the lyrics so you can sing along!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z61zdZJ9uZc&feature=related

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YhqJYOYcnAU&NR=1


Mark Schultz Lyrics - Everything To Me Lyrics

I must have felt your tears
When they took me from your arms
I’m sure I must have heard you say goodbye
Lonely and afraid had you made a big mistake
Could an ocean even hold the tears you cried

But you had dreams for me
You wanted the best for me
And you made the only choice you could that night

(Chorus)
You gave life to me
A brand new world to see
Like playing baseball in the yard with dad at night
Mom reading Goodnight Moon
And praying in my room
So if you worry if your choice was right
You gave me up but you gave everything to me

And if I saw you on the street
Would you know that it was me
And would your eyes be blue or green like mine
Would we share a warm embrace
Would you know me in your heart
Or would you smile and let me walk on by
Knowing you had dreams for me
You wanted the best for me
And I hope that you’d be proud of who I am

(Chorus)
You gave life to me
A chance to find my dreams
And a chance to fall in love
You should have seen her shining face
On our wedding day
Oh is this the dream you had in mind
When you gave me up
You gave everything to me

And when I see you there
Watching from heaven’s gates
Into your arms
I’m gonna run
And when you look in my eyes
You can see my whole life
See who I was
And who I’ve become

This Makes Me Smile

"Drawing is just two things, putting lines on paper, and deciding where they go."

James A. Owen

BFF

This one is simple, thanks to my good friend Chris, who spent the weekend with me being a friend and helping me find happiness again.

To My Friend

His name was Lance. He was truly my best friend up until he took his own life in 2003. I met Lance only a few years earlier, he knew me by reputation and showed up at my front door one day. I had been heavily involved in the local wakeboarding community; I helped out our local dealer, competed competitively, and taught a group of local riders - mostly kids that wanted to compete in local tournaments. He purchased a boat from the local dealer that I helped and was privy to my involvement. Coincidentally, his parents also happened to live in my neighborhood. I don’t know how long Lance knew me before I knew him, but one day when I had my boat in my driveway he stopped by and wanted to talk wakeboarding. I warmly welcomed him in. Lance was instantly the type of guy that you just had to like. His outgoing personality and sense of humor was wonderful. We instantly became wakeboarding buddies and friends. Lance was the first guy that I allowed really close to me. I have always been the type of guy that just “took care of it” on my own. I would use my toes to hold a screw before I allowed someone to help me. I tell you this because at some point Lance showed me how he could not only be my friend, but be the guy who could hold my screw when needed. Lance was a big part of my life. We hung out together, wakeboarded together and enjoyed each other’s company.

Lance was only a few years older than me with a wife, a 5 year old daughter and a 7 year old son. The fall and winter of 2002 his marriage became rocky. His wife was having an affair with a man at her work. This devastated Lance and he threatened suicide. He was admitted to a hospital where he convinced doctors he was not suicidal – he was good at knowing what to say. His wife filed a restraining order as she feared for her safety after his suicide attempt. He started living at his parent’s house just up the street from our house. Consequently he spent much of his time at our house; which we welcomed. He loved his wife and wanted nothing more than to be with her. She gave up on their marriage, but Lance would not. While he tired everything to mend their relationship she only wanted him to stay away. Lance consoled our family and due to our past we were able to help explain some of the decisions she made and pain he was experiencing. We spoke regularly on the phone when he was working or needed someone to help him through some of the hard times.

The day before Lance left, I briefly spoke to him on the phone. I was home sick, lying on the couch when he called. He was going through another “tough time” and wanted nothing more than to talk to me on the phone. I was sick and very short with him. He was able to quickly tell I was not in the mood and did not keep me on the phone very long. The next day I received a frantic phone call from his wife saying he had threatened suicide again and left their house after he had gathered a bunch of odd items like the garden hose.

Months went by. People randomly provided reports of seeing Lance at the grocery store. They would spot his truck in a parking lot or some other similar sighting. But none of the reports or police investigations turned up anything. The news finally came during deer season in the fall of 2003. I remember hugging and crying in the arms of Lance’s mother while we both were only able to mumble “it’s over.”

In typical “my buddy Lance” fashion, he duck taped the windows and doors of his truck and then did the same with a garden hose he placed in the exhaust. A hunter found his truck in some thick woods not far from a major road. He was missing for nearly 6 months.

At his funeral they asked his family and friends to stand up and tell a story about Lance’s life. I had chosen a story about one of our many wakeboarding outings, one that made me smile. In front of a church full of his family and friends I stood up and tried to speak. I managed to get four words out before I broke down in tears. “Lance was my friend” I said, before I lost complete control of my emotions. Take time to be there for your friends, you never know when it might be your last opportunity – this is one of many lessons I learned from Lance.

I miss you so much.

The Summer Solstice

Sandals, shorts and an optional T-shirt: my summer wardrobe.

On the longest day of the year and the first day of summer I am as giddy as a 7 year old boy on Christmas Eve. Throw in the fact that this year it comes on a Friday, right before a “lake” weekend, and you have a big kid that is going to accomplish very little at work! If you haven’t noticed yet, today marks the beginning of my favorite season. A season where you turn the heated seats off and keep your swimsuit on. A season that offers long evenings which often extend into the night and bathtub-warm water that invites you in, over and over again. Here’s to cold beer, the warmth of the sun, the sweet smell of coconut oils and tanned bodies! Summer is upon us.

I’m extremely excited about this summer. I have more reasons than ever to welcome in the season with open arms and a smile. I'm off to work on my tan!

The - Guitar - Song

Hey Kitten, whatcha doin'?
Wanna play the guitar?
You say, what's that sound
Coming out of the hole in the wood?
You say, what's that sound
Coming out of the hole in the wood?
You say, what's that sound
Coming out of the hole in the wood?
It's the guitar

"The Guitar Song" - The Dead Milkmen





My ability to play music stops at iTunes. I've always wanted to play a musical instrument. I remember being disappointed back in second grade when we were all given a "recorder" and had to learn to play - I remember thinking that we were each going to be given a "tape recorder" and somehow were going to be taught the proper way to play such a device - don't forget this was the 80's and a serious skill was to be able to synchronize the play button with the record&play button on dual tape decks. Granted, I never pursued an illustrious career as a recorder player, but have always wanted to play something.



I created a sort of goals list, not quite the bucket list, but things I'd like to do or learn. I was recently able to scratch off my #1 (finding my birth mother) so now it is on to #2 - learn to play the violin. So I changed my mind since I wrote the list - besides I've been told learning to play the guitar is a great foundation for learning to play the violin. With that said, I picked up an Ibanez acoustic guitar last night and can't wait until I know what I'm doing - so feel free to provide me any comments regarding learning to play.



My stimulus check went to good use - actually, I think I've spent it about 4 times!

Open Letter to My Birth Mother

The process of searching for a birth parent is overwhelming. But my guide through this process suggested I write a letter to my birth mother, so if/when they found her they could let her know why I wanted to meet her. A few beers, one cold December eveing, and a shit load of tears later I had the following letter saved on the hard-drive of my laptop. My hopes were that she would read this letter and agree to consent - meaning she would allow the courts to release her information to me so we could communicate and start a relationship:




To the woman who gave birth to me:

December 19,2007

Dear Mom,

I love you. Rarely does a day go by that I do not think about you in some fashion. I wonder about the woman you were, the person you have become, and the unimaginable choice you had to make. I question whether you think about me and how I have grown. I wonder what you look like and where I got my dark hair, hazel colored eyes, and love for music. I speculate about your life without me and reflect on my life without you.

I admire you for your decision and your choice - the choice that afforded me a childhood that did not know hard-times, poverty, or hunger. I grew up with a family that loved me like one of their own – if not better. I am full of hope, love, and questions, not resentment, bitterness, or animosity.

I grew up always knowing I was adopted. I cannot recall a time when I thought or knew otherwise. I praise my adoptive parents for this. Nonetheless, I wanted to know more about you, my birthmother, from the time I could comprehend the meaning of adoption. These feelings only grew stronger as I grew older and as I questioned my own heritage. When I was eighteen, I was able to receive non-identifying information about you and your family. These three pages were, and have been, my only tangible link to you. I’ve read them over and over, and while they only capture you at a single moment in time they bestow me with just that – a view through a window into your life of some thirty plus years ago.

Since then, I’ve tried numerous methods of trying to find you. I’ve registered with the state, I’ve contacted the children’s home, I’ve registered on countless internet adoption match and registry sites. I’ve even tried a few other things…. All to no avail.

I’m writing you this letter as your son - the one that kicked you from the inside of your womb, the one you think about every St. Patrick’s Day – asking you to allow me back into your life, to let me to see your face and speak your name. I ache for these simple pleasures.

Your loving son,



Anthony Patrick – “Michael”



(she agreed to consent before they even read my letter to her)

Happy, Happy, Happy - Mother's Day

I've yet to figure out how to superscript text on the blog. I'd love to be able to put the little cubed reference - #3 in superscript anytime I referenced my mothers. Yes, I have three. It all started out many years ago when I only had one. But today I sit here enjoying the love of the three most wonderful, unique, and caring women a boy could ever imagine having as a mother.

Please let me introduce (with the full story still to come):

Mother #1

(Picture is missing in action: per her request.)

The mother who changed my diapers, raised me, and made me the person I am today.

Mother #2

The mother I feel honored to call a mother - we cried on each others shoulders as she lost a son and I lost my best friend. I will never fill his shoes or the hole in left in our respective lives. But our relationships' fulfill some of our deepest needs. She has guided me through the storms and has been there with open arms, a warm meal, and a "place" in her life when I had none of the above.

Mother #3

My birth mother. An unbelievable woman who sacrificed her paternal rights for me - yes, for me! Thirty-four (34) years of unanswered questions, wondering, searching, and countless tears brought us together this year. The experience has been one of emotion, speechlessness, tears, joy, happiness, unimaginable feelings....it has seemed surreal but then oh so real.

(The full story will be in theaters Fall, 2010)

Narcissism

I'll admit that I enjoy talking about myself.



I would consider myself humble, at least until you got to know me. I'm troubled with the idea of writing a lot about myself, it seems so narcissistic. Which, to me, seems to incorporate a negative connotation. Ah, fuck it... we are all friends here, right? And last time I checked I was the only one with a password for this blog.....and it's not like I'm making you read this!



So, let me describe myself: I am a thirty-four year old guy. My world revolves around my two-year old daughter, Gracie. I am also a thrill seeker. However, I think the more current term is adrenaline junkie. I have more hobbies than free time - which is an issue. I'm working on a way to balance these two facets of my life. In no particular order I love boating (i.e., anything involving water: wakeboarding, jet-skiing, SCUBA diving, swimming, surfing, fishing, yachting - wow, that sounds yuppie), motorcycles - street and dirt, bicycling - mountain and road, skate(ing) - boarding and ice, golf, and let's throw in guns and motors in case there wasn't enough testosterone already there. I love being outdoors and doing something - anything. I'm self-diagnosed with an adult version of ADD. Which means I don't do well at family type events where I'm forced to sit all day.



Other things that might help you get to know me: I rarely watch TV. In fact, I don't have cable or satellite - just an antenna and some local stations! I am a music man. My stereo is my life. I listen to everything and love music, of all types, especially acoustic. However, I have little to no musical abilities with the exception of being able to sing along with the music at extremely high levels in my car - yes, I'm "that guy" - the one you see singing in his car - hate me if you must. I have also developed an enjoyment for reading. Oh, god.... I don't believe I'm about to admit this, but for some reason it feels therapeutic to get this out in the open: I have read every book Nicholas Sparks has written. Did I forget to mention I am not gay, not that I have a problem with that, just that I really enjoy women, especially this one: http://www.daughterofopinion.blogspot.com/.



I'm adopted. This is huge. In fact, this has shaped my life more than any other single event. It has truly made me the person I am in so many ways. Today, as I sit here and type this I am enjoying the love of not one mother, but three. (yeah, I know, I'll have to explain). Did I mention that it's a good thing? I'm grinning as I type, it is a good thing!



I also have a day job. I have a background in electronics and business management and I currently do sales and marketing for a electronics manufacture. It provides me a lot of freedom and experiences I would have never experienced on my own....and it helps support my aforementioned hobbies above. I have also enjoyed being a slum-lord in the past and have a knack for fixing and fixing up things. Oh, and I almost forgot, I have a lead foot - which is starting to get expensive!



That's pretty much me....



Tony


(I forgot to say "cheese")

email findings

"As an Alumnus of the KARRASS Effective Negotiating program, you will receive a tip each month."

I ran across one of these this morning as I was deleting old emails. I actually enjoy receiving these because they are often filled with positive ideas and concepts that I try to incorporate into my life. The one I found today I had not deleted because it stood out when I first saw it. I should have moved it or deleted it but didn't. I now realize it had a purpose for being there; and that purpose was to share on this blog.


Per Dr. Karrass' mass email:

"If you think you can, or if you think you can't, you are right!"

#2

1/8 Full was my second choice. My first, was an old addage I came up with many years ago that has helped me overcome many insurmountable projects by stepping back, taking a deep breath and realizing we are equipped to do anything we set our minds to.


"Nothing in life is difficult, somethings just take longer."


(blogspot had a character limit on blog titles)

The Story Behind the Name.

In a play called “The Price” by Arthur Miller, the main character suggests, getting the story is as important as getting the price. I’m a sucker for stories, which is one of the reasons why I created this blog. To expand on this, I wanted to share some of my own stories as a way of giving back a little of what I have been so fortunate to receive over the years. I’m also hoping this blog will provide a creative outlet for some of my pent up energies.

They say there is a direct correlation between optimism and success and I couldn’t agree more. I’ve always been pretty optimistic and I’ve continued to enjoy a certain level of success. But this last year has brought unimaginable wealth into my life. Mind you, not necessarily in the form of my bank account, but in the nature of emotional fulfillment beyond even my (your) wildest dreams. (1)

This all leads up to a recent discussion where I was inevitably taking “the glass is half full” side of the argument, when it came to me, that I was so optimistic about the outcome of the said event, that even if my glass was less than ½ full, I’d still be calling it “full!” That discussion helped me coin my phrase and the now title of this blog “1/8 Full.” (2) It’s my optimistic way of saying, even when we don’t have much we make the most of what we have.

I intend for this blog to maintain an optimistic outlook. However, I realize it might have its down days. I’ll do my best to make it a place of refuge for those looking for a collection of nice little stories. I do hope you enjoy.

1) Moody Blues Reference – I will write more about this later.
2) Granted, any fraction less than ½ will work, but 1/8 shows commitment and helps prevent someone from trying to steal the idea with a “7 Minute Abs” (3) style conundrum.
3) Something About Mary - Hitchiker and Ted’s conversation: http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0129387/quotes

Test

The first post is supposed to be meaningful isn't it?