Tinkerbell and my looming mid-life crisis…

Strange, but I found myself very reflective after watching the movie Tinkerbell with my daughters a few weeks ago. In the movie, Tinkerbell’s magic fairy talent was being a tinker. She envied the other fairies that had cool talents like making things grow and altering the weather. As you can imagine, Tinkerbell tries and fails at these jobs. But it all works out in the end when she uses her mad tinkering skills to save the day. She ultimately becomes content with her role and lives out the rest of her fairy life happy with what she has.

Well, here’s what that has to do with me…

I had decided earlier this year that I was going to run a half marathon this summer. In fact, this is something that I have already accomplished once, back in 1999. I’m not sure why I decided to do this again, but it seemed to be a worthy goal.

I enjoy running, and I generally feel good when I do so. But as my training progressed into more frequent and longer runs, I noticed that I was feeling less happy about it. I’d spend most of my free time running, and I had perpetual soreness in my left ankle and right knee.

This is all within what should be expected from a 40 year old man with a bit of a pot belly. The zeitgeist of western society norms would dictate that I suck it up in a “no guts, no glory” blaze of pride and accomplishment. But I asked myself, why am I doing this? What am I trying to prove?

I think that I have always wanted to be good at something; to be admired. I enjoy music, so I play the guitar. I’m not very good at it. I took drum lessons a few years ago, I’m not very good at that either. I have a salt water fish tank that is over-run with algae. I have a blog that is unfocused and inconsistently updated. I seem to ooze mediocrity with everything.

But do I really?

In fact, I’m a good father and a good husband. I am admired and needed by my family. I also think (and have been told by many others) that I’m a good psychiatrist. These are where my talents lie. I’m not setting the world on fire here. Not everyone can be Neil Peart or Lance Armstrong. As I approach my mid-life crisis, I am aware that I need to find a level of comfort with being ordinary.

So I have decided not to run the half marathon. Running should be its own reward, and I should run regularly at moderate levels. My health and well-being will flourish with neither the time commitment nor the aches and pains.

Great. But the thing is, since I have decided this, I haven’t been running very much at all. It can be black and white with me sometimes. I find it difficult to be consistent when I don’t have a definable goal.

I’m not quite sure yet how this is all supposed to work.

Passover

Here are some thoughts on Passover this year.

I had a good time at our family Seder, and then again had fun the second night with friends. As usual, I ate too much matzah and brisket. I enjoyed telling the story of passover to my kids. I was proud that my daughter could say the 4 questions in Hebrew. I had fun flipping plastic frogs across the table.

I really hope that my kids hold times like these in their memories as they grow up, and think warm thoughts when they reflect back on them.

But…

There is a cognitive dissonance that I feel while going through the Seder. I do not believe that there is a God, and therefore I don’t believe that he chose the Jewish people, he didn’t send plagues on Egypt and he didn’t split the Red Sea. These are all myths. Sure, slavery is bad, and people should be freed from oppression. That is a good lesson. But it bugs me that none of this stuff is true. Part of me realizes that it doesn’t have to be true, but there is a struggle for me.

A while back, I decided that I can participate in Jewish rituals and celebrations by substituting “the Jewish tradition” in place of “God.” I have found that this works most of the time for me. But I feel like I’m selling out at times. At other times, I wish I wouldn’t worry so much about this stuff and just go with the flow.

Anyway…Happy Passover!

The Macallan

The Macallan

The other night, I braved a trip to a liquor store in a semi-rough neighborhood. This was the only place around that carried The Macallan. As I pulled up in my imported car and bought a $50 bottle of scotch I realized that I was one of those latte sipping liberals that Rush Limbaugh whines about.

Anyone who knows me also knows that I am a big fan of Neil Peart, the drummer from Rush (the band, not the blow hard right-wing radio nut-job.) In addition to his music and drumming instruction videos, I have read all of the books that he has written about his biking and motorcycle adventures. In his writing, he shares that most evenings, he winds down with a glass of The Macallan.

Over the years, I have occasionally noticed a bottle of The Macallan on the shelves behind the bars at restaurants. I’d make a passing note that this was what Neil Peart drinks and tell myself that I should try this someday.

Several weeks ago, I went out for dinner with my wife at a nice restaurant in town. Our table wasn’t ready when we arrived, so we sat and chatted in the bar for a few minutes. I ordered a glass of The Macallan. The bartender asked me how I wanted it. Not knowing any better I said with ice. As I sipped for a while at the bar and later at our table, I realized that this stuff is really good. My wife, a veritable teetotaler, tried some and grimaced, “Why would anyone drink that?”

A few weeks later, I ordered The Macallan, again with ice. Again I deemed it to be good.

Hence my trip to the liquor store.

When I got home, I was proud of my purchase. I admired the bottle and found a good place to display it in my kitchen. Like any good latte sipping liberal, I went on the Internet and googled “How to drink whiskey.” This was actually very informative. I quickly learned that it is almost sacrilegious to put ice in a single malt scotch. I immediately wondered what the bartenders at the restaurants thought of my previous orders.

So tonight, having done my research, I’m having my first un-iced single malt scotch. It is very relaxing and enjoyable. The flavors are more pronounced without the ice. The flavors and aroma are very complex. There is also something cool about drinking something that sat in a barrel in Scotland for 12 years.

It is nice to add another of life’s pleasures to my repertoire.

Working on Christmas

It is kind of nice to work on Christmas.

Everything is a lot more calm and laid back. Only the essential people are there, and there were a lot less distractions. This morning, the freeways were very sparsely occupied. Tim Horton’s was closed, so I didn’t get my early morning coffee and donut fix. (it’s good to give your islet cells and your insulin receptors a break every now and then.) I was able to find a parking spot with no hassle. The staff were all generally in a good mood. Things went very smoothly. They were even giving away free lunch in the cafeteria to hospital employees.

The whole process was distilled down to the main objective, taking care of people.

Wouldn’t it be nice if this was how things normally worked? The multiple layers of bureaucracy serve only to weigh things down and cause unneeded stress. The competition and trying to prove yourself cause unneeded stress. All of the meetings and paperwork cause unneeded stress. Why do we insist on making things more complicated than they actually are?

The downside of working on the holiday was being away from my family. While I covered for my colleagues, they were relaxing at home and enjoying their families. I need to make sure that I take some time to do this as well.