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We all have structure in our lives.

When we are young the structure is provided by our parents.  They decide our bedtime, what friends we have play dates with, and where we live.  As we grow older the structure is provided by our schools – where we go to school, who will teach us, and exactly what they will teach.  Ultimately, structure is provided by a society that has already laid down the roads, built the cities, and imposed the laws.

As we get older, we learn to construct our own personal life structure, to the dismay of our parents who are never quite ready for the amount of independence we desire.  I still remember the ongoing arguments my first wife had with our then four-year-old daughter who wanted to pick out her own clothes for school.

By the time I was 31 years old I had begun my own business, was the proud father of three children, and was in the middle of divorce proceedings.  I moved back to live with my parents.

Temporarily.

On the first morning of my “visit” my dad said at breakfast, “You know, Alan, we have certain rules we expect you to follow in our house.”  My immediate reaction was to smile on the outside, and to begin planning my escape on the inside.  I stayed with my folks for less than a month.

I now work in my office Monday, Wednesday, and Friday.  Last Tuesday morning when I woke up I checked my calendar for the day.  I found nothing.  No appointments. No reminders.  In short, no structure.

“That’s interesting,” I thought.  I was uncomfortably facing a blank day and, sure enough, immediately started to fill in those blanks with plans – i.e., structure.

As adults, each of us is the architect of our own life structure.

I hope you enjoy your view.

Alan

While my memory might occasionally be hazy, I still remember most of the significant events of my life.

As many of you know, I’m a big fan of the USC football team. Years ago, I flew to Florida with friends to watch them play in the Orange Bowl.

My memory is that USC was ahead 35-0 at halftime when I visited the men’s bathroom.

In the bathroom, I overheard two fans of the other team talking. They were in some distress that their team was losing so badly. I remember that one of them said to the other, “What are we going to do?”

“Take it like a man,” the friend replied.

I smiled at the time because it was an implicit acknowledgement that USC was going to win the game. But over the years I’ve incorporated that answer into other aspects of my own life, like a secret sauce.

But what exactly does “take it like a man,” even mean? There is the gendered implication that men should suppress their feelings even in times of physical or emotional hardship or that women are weaker than men and can’t take it. But I choose to use those words to remind myself that sometimes, one needs to tuck in and get through hard times like an adult, and that applies to everyone, men and women alike.

Sometimes adversity doesn’t just knock: it blows the whole house down. Then what do you do?  Take it like a woman, or man, and do the very best you can under the circumstances.  Take it one minute, one hour, one day at a time, as that is often the only course.

For me that meant “taking it like a man” when my brother suddenly died, about twenty years ago. I was inconsolable for three years, and for the first six months I found it difficult to even function in my normal life. But I got through it, one day at a time.

Eventually even the hard parts of life fade into the haze of our past. To test my memory of that long ago game in Florida, I searched the internet for references. But I failed to find the USC Orange Bowl score that I remember from that event. I will assume that this is due to my failure to search properly, because, in my mind, I’m certain it happened.

This season the USC football performance has been mediocre. So, I’m taking it like a grown up, and not caring as much as I normally do about the outcome of their football games.

Take THAT, USC.

Alan

Many years ago, when I arrived home from work, my wife Susan would ask me what happened during my day.  It took me a while to understand that what she wanted was an hour-by-hour summary of my entire day.  But because my mind doesn’t work that way, I wasn’t able to answer her effectively. It took us awhile to figure out the disconnect between us so we could communicate better.

My recollections of what happened during my day are like a ticker tape of random information. My memories are not organized chronologically.  My mind subconsciously clips each “article” of information and places it in the appropriate file with other related experiences.  In that way – I “cache” my memories so they make the most sense to me.  Organizing events consecutively is not relevant to my internal way of thinking, and it is difficult or impossible for me to reproduce my day chronologically afterwards.

The amount we can share with another person is always limited. This is true even with those closest to you: your parents, your children, or your life partner.  Obviously, I can’t spend eight hours each evening with a minute-by-minute recap of my entire day.

But part of a good relationship is realizing and respecting each other’s differences and working out accommodations and compromises.  For example, I like to go to sleep at 11:00 pm every night.  Daveen is a night owl and likes to read until the wee hours of the morning.  So we cuddle while I fall asleep.  After that Daveen is free to do whatever she likes.  Maybe she’s a secret night-marathon runner?

But just like my periodic reports to Susan, this blog only reflects snippets of what actually happens my life, not the whole shebang (hebang?).  I have to be selective in sharing with important people in my life what might be important or interesting. This certainly applies to what I can share in this weekly blog.

Let’s face it.  Much of life is the “same old”.  And there is comfort in that. But I suppose that’s also why we enjoy watching movies or TV – so we can experience someone like Tom Cruise leaping off mountain peaks or driving a car at 200 miles per hour.

But I’ll happily settle for what you choose to share with me if it is important to you. Those moments of meaningful expression matter, because that is what keeps us connected.

A penny for your snippet?

Alan