When I was in law school, a fellow student shared with me that when he was eighteen, he thought his dad didn’t know anything.  “But in the past six years, I’m surprised at how much he’s learned,” he said.

I could apply that observation to my own life.  During the past 82 years I’m surprised at how much I’ve learned. Some lessons I’ve had to learn more than once.  Life is a diligent teacher.

In no particular order – here are some of the positive surprise lessons that I’ve learned from various events and milestones in my life:

1. Six children.  What happened here?  I grew up with one younger brother, and that was plenty.  At my fiftieth high school reunion I won a door prize for having the most children. What have I learned? My children are my proudest accomplishment.
2. Owning my own business for 54 years.  When I founded ACF on March 1, 1968, I applied for several corporate names.  A man called from Sacramento to tell me that none of those was available.  Since the state had paid for the phone call, I asked about the name ACF Property Management, Inc.  That name was available, and here we are, still thriving. I’ve learned throughout all of the ups and the downs that optimism works.
3. Getting back together with Daveen.  This was an especially large shock to my family-law attorney, but a stroke of good luck for me. What did I learn? To paraphrase Joni Mitchell, sometimes “you don’t know what you’ve got till it’s gone.”
4. My paternal grandfather lived to be 94, my father to 104.  Does that mean I get another 32 years? If hope so, and in the meantime, I’ve learned to make the most of every moment.
5. Publishing three People Tools books and two children’s books in my seventies. I’ve learned it is never too late to achieve your goals and accomplish what you want to do most in life.

Have there also been some negative surprises?  Of course, but even those have taught me something. Almost 4 years ago I needed to have surgery on my cervical spine. While we all might expect something like that to happen to us eventually, I couldn’t help thinking why me? But since then, I’ve begun to walk regularly, and I now appreciate how important it is to take care of my body.

I always fall asleep wondering what will happen tomorrow.  That should keep me going for another decade or two.

Today the Livermore lab in the San Francisco Bay area announced a major breakthrough in fusion energy.  That’s the same energy source that powers the sun.  I’m not a scientist, but in twenty years this source of abundant energy could change the world.

See you then!

Meanwhile, best wishes for a happy holiday.

Alan

This may be a touchy subject.  The unsaid remainder of the question posed in the title could be, “…THAT I DON’T ALREADY CONSCIOUSLY RECOGNIZE”.

The answer leaping out from some previously secret psychological cavern near my heart is, “You’re a lot more sensitive than you let on, even to yourself.”

I don’t know whether to accept that truth about myself with gusto, stuff it back where it came from by ignoring it (is that possible?) or explore it further by writing about it.  The “writing about it” seems to be winning.  I’m remembering the writer who was asked by a reporter what he thought about winning the Nobel prize for literature.

“I don’t know,” the writer said.  “I haven’t written about it yet.”

But this particular truth about myself is a stubborn rascal and doesn’t want to be pulled out of its hidey hole.

Perhaps it’s because as a child, I was told “You’re too sensitive” once too often.  But that is like telling me I’m too short.  What action can I take to change something that is an intrinsic part of me?  Undergo a sensitivityectomy?  Wear shoes with thicker soles?

I think not.  We are who we are, I am who I am.  And yet, hopefully, there will always be someone who loves the way we are, even if it is only our mothers. And there will also be those who will criticize something about us, if only our spouses (except for Daveen – who never criticizes me).

The trick is to corral in your inner critic and refrain from allowing that inner voice tell you something negative about yourself.  Do not cede to your own worst enemy a perch of honor on your shoulder right next to your ear.

And yet, how do you refrain from criticizing yourself or repressing some inherent truth about yourself?

Maybe you can’t.  Perhaps I will always try to mask my sensitive nature and keep it hidden.  Or maybe I can follow my dad’s advice, “Be nice to yourself.”  Maybe I can let myself recognize that is who I am, and it is okay to acknowledge and accept it. In the words of Tevia from Fiddler on the Roof, would it spoil some “vast eternal plan” if I always believe I will do my best, rather than needing to win or to lose? Do I need to put a cap on my emotions so as not to appear too sensitive? Or do I embrace all parts of me – and allow myself to feel as sensitive as I really am?

I do not believe that life is a zero-sum game.  In fact, I believe that the more you win, the more I win.

And I know that each of us has unique strengths, challenges, and abilities.  And also, I hope, a bit of sensitivity.

Alan

In times past I would often dilute a “Thank you” with a comment that undermined my gratitude. “Thanks for dinner.  The mashed potatoes were almost as good as last time.”  While that might seem rude, I never intended it to be. I was certainly influenced by my father who was reluctant to ever pay me an unconditional compliment, lest I get a “big head” and stop trying.

Over the years I have learned to say a heartfelt “Thank you,” without adding any additional commentary that might detract.

In thinking back over this year, and others, I realize, I have a number of wholehearted thank you’s I’d like to share.  Additional commentary is only for elaboration – to expand on my gratitude – of which I have an abundance.

Thank you to Daveen.  You take such good care of me, and your love is clear and consistent.  You are the best life partner I could ever have, and I am grateful for your smile, your laughter, and your sense of humor.  And also for your incredible memory.

Thank you to the entire team at ACF.  Over the past weekend Stacie and Dayna organized the best annual meeting that ACF has ever had.  It is my pleasure to work daily with such a thoughtful, dedicated, and effective team.

Thank you to my family.  We always support each other in so many ways, both small and large.  Thank you for your time, your attention, and your love.

Thank you to Tim. You have expanded and improved our literary magazine Rattle far beyond the confines of my imagination.

Thank you to my mom.  I will always remember our conversations, my snacks, and the time we spent together every afternoon after I came home from school until we sat down for family dinner.

Thank you to my dad.  You taught me about handling money, being responsible, and you were a unique and surpassingly effective teacher both for me and for your many music students.

Thank you to my brother.  David. I will always remember your love and dedication in taking care of me, despite my taking advantage of you when we were young.  But what are younger brothers for?

Thank you to Nancy, for your love and friendship and for working together and supporting each other in achieving our goals ever since we met in a USC writing workshop more than 30 years ago.

Thank you to Professor Wicks, my contract professor in law school.  You called me into your office to tell me I had a lot of ability – but wasn’t working nearly to my potential.

Thank you to Dr. Leonard Ratner, my constitutional law professor.  You approved my required “extra credit” paper, even though we both knew it was a slap-dash effort, just in time for me to sit for the bar exam.

Thank you to all my teachers.  You are many, and often don’t receive nearly enough appreciation for all you do.

Thank you to Jim Leisner, managing partner at Peat Marwick, where I began my career.  You were the first to tell me that white socks were not exactly professional business attire.

Thank you to everyone else who should be on this list.  I hope you know who you are, and I am grateful beyond measure for your help along this often-challenging journey through life.

Thank you, dear readers, and best wishes to all.

Alan