Author: HarrisGroup

JMH Blog

Gotcha Day

My parents wanted to have a big family. Prior to my arrival, my parents had four biological children. Three of the four had developmental disabilities with one passing away at three days old. For many reasons, they chose to pursue adoption to expand their family.

I am eternally grateful for all she (and my dad) did in raising me. I never had to worry about clothing, food, or shelter. We took many great vacations. Holidays provided many good memories. Like many families, there were struggles and challenges but I have always known they did the best they could.

Growing up, I asked my mom a lot of questions about my adoption. She tried to answer as many as she could. One day I asked her to tell me how they got me. Was there a store? A mail-order catalog? Did I just show up on their front porch and say hello? She assured me they didn’t get me from a store or a catalog. She said my sister was just teasing when she said I was found under a rock.

All this information is good, but it didn’t answer the question. How did you get me? My mother began to tell the story about how my parents secretly met with a local adoption agency (Lutheran Social Services). My parents told very few people they were considering adoption. Back then, adoption was not a sure thing. She said they asked lots of questions about a lot of things and hoped that they answered correctly so that they could adopt. But she still didn’t answer my question.

So I asked again. How did you get me? She told me they weren’t sure they were going to get me or anyone else. However, one day long before they know of me, my mom went to see a psychic. Given this was the late 60s, I suppose she could have done worse things. She said the psychic looked at her and said “You are going to have another child but this one is different. My mom quizzically asked, “What do you mean?” The psychic looked at my mom and said, “This child will come to you on a plane.” And so it was on this day many years ago, that I flew on a plane with a lady from the adoption agency to meet my family for the first time. Some days are more important than others. This is an important day for me.

1234 and beyond

On February 29, 2020, the first death related to the coronavirus in the United States was reported. At the time nearly 3,000 people worldwide had died. Less than 100 confirmed cases existed in the United States. Little did any of us know how our lives would change over the next few weeks, months, and years.

This post isn’t about the pandemic. This post is about something else that happened on February 29, 2020. It was the last day that I took fewer than 10,000 steps. I don’t recall why I took a break from my standard step regimen that day but I did. Perhaps I was tired.

I recall that I resolved to start a new streak on March 1, 2020. My original goals were to 1) beat my old streak (which escapes me but I think was about 180 days), 2) keep the streak alive for at least 365 days, and 3) keep the streak alive for the duration of the anticipated pandemic – however long.

So here we are over three years later and the streak continues. To be precise, one thousand two hundred thirty-four days have one and gone since the last leap day. 1, 234 is a number that is orderly, progressive, and linear. A number that stands for so much.

I have faced many obstacles during the streak, including work, illness, weather, travel, and motivation. I have learned much about myself and achieved more than I could imagine. Mostly, I have learned to believe in myself and work steadily each day. I am proud of the streak.

Earlier in the streak, I averaged over 20,000 steps a day. My current trend is averaging 12,000-13,000 steps per day. So the pace is slowing but the drive to keep it going is not. Someday, the streak will end. Yesterday was not the day it ended. I have no plans to end it today either.

Communication and Storytelling

I have quietly been working on several post ideas. Yet, I have not completed them. I want to write and publish posts I love. This post has been in the hopper too long and needs to come out. I do not love this post. This post has taught me that communicating a good story is hard to do.

Recently, I watched the final episode of Ted Lasso (assuming season 3 is the last). I’ve enjoyed the show since I stumbled upon it by chance during season 1. The writing, the characters (and character development), the setting, and the story are wonderful.

It is a show about hope and optimism. One article describes the show as “a pandemic bastion, to be sure, a paean to the kind of niceness and positivity we’d like to believe will win the day amid a world that grows more cynical every passing moment.” Sure it gets a little over the top with its positivity, but it has a great message. Also, it is littered with 80s references that take me to a happy time in my life.

The show teaches (or reminds us of) many lessons. Here are three things I take away from this series. First, search for alternative explanations. Don’t always assume the worst. Perhaps someone is having a bad day, week, month, or even year. Next, the show demonstrates the importance of giving and receiving grace. Finally, the show demonstrates and enforces the importance of storytelling.

Fans of the show will remember the dart scene in Season 1. This scene is an example of great storytelling. In less than four minutes we learn a lot about Ted. We learn Ted played darts with his dad. We learn his dad passed away when he was 16. We see what happens we assume things about people. We learn to focus on ourselves and not what others think of us. We learn to not underestimate people. Perhaps most importantly, we learn to be curious about other stories. Thank you storytelling!

Storytelling allows humans to connect the present to the past. It allows us to explore and understand the human experience – both now and in the past. Storytelling allows us to look backward to find solutions to current challenges. During a season 3 episode, Ted’s son, ex-wife, and her boyfriend visit. During the visit, Ted feels the strain of being a distant parent (he lives in the UK while his son lives in the US). He longs to be closer and more connected with his son. Ted believes he is missing too much by being on another continent. Additionally, Ted is distracted. Ted is preoccupied with a trip his ex-wife takes to Paris with her boyfriend. Ted frets about whether she will get engaged in Paris. He is so distracted that he isn’t present for his son and his son feels alone and alienated.

But storytelling to the rescue! Late in the episode, Ted, his son, and Coach Beard are sitting outside the pub on Richmond Green listening to a man perform songs. In the scene, Ted’s son recognizes the performer playing the Beatles song Hey Jude. Because Ted loves the Beatles, so does his son. Yet, Ted barely acknowledges the recognition and steps away to take a phone call. The dialogue between Coach Beard and Ted’s son demonstrates why we need stories Coach Beard ties the lyrics and genesis of the songt to the current situation with Ted’s son together. The viewer and Ted’s son is left with a better understanding of the current situation. Take a sad song and make it better.

Shortly after this episode aired, I listened to a podcast by Scott Galloway aka Prof G. I like listening to Prof. G. He is insightful and sharp. While I don’t always agree, I always learn something from him. I enjoy his direct, off-color, and occasionally bombastic style. He is wicked smart and brutally honest. His May 5, 2023 musing ponders the importance of storytelling. When asked which skill kids should acquire to best compete in the modern economy: Galloway unequivocally answers – storytelling.

Galloway argues that “Communities with larger proportions of skilled storytellers experience greater levels of cooperation.” Galloway outlines five ways to get better at storytelling. Listen – read widely and ask questions. Evaluate – Test your ideas. Frame -Find a way to express your thoughts in a compelling manner. Be Fearless – Open yourself up to the rejection of your story. Deliver – Once you know what to say, say it in as few words as possible. Overall, his point is to get in the game.

All of this prompted me to ponder the importance of human interaction. Recent changes and events have caused us to drift apart. The ease we can “communicate” via technology means many interactions are electronic only. Most of the electronic mediums, don’t allow for the personal and immediate feedback. We don’t know if our receipent has received our message. Often we respond without fully understanding the message. Effective and/or difficult communication is challenging electronically. Perhaps we need to do more in person.

Birthdays

For most, birthdays are significant. It marks another revolution around the sun. Another year of thriving, surviving, or something in between. It is a cause for celebration and reflection.

Today I am celebrating another year. The older I get, the more precious these are. We all have friends and family who will not see another birthday.

I have not always been in a celebratory mood on my birthday. If you recall my last post, I talked about the last time I saw my father. Originally, I wasn’t going to stop at the house to see him that night. Why would I stop? After all, I was going to see him the next day when we gathered to celebrate my birthday.

For many years my birthday has been a painful reminder of one of my darkest days. I can still hear the quiver in my mother’s voice as she told me my father had unexpectedly passed away. I remember the spot I was standing when I received word. I was golfing at the time and had to tell the golf group what had happened. We were all young, far too young to experience this.

Since that day, I have worked to use the day not only to reflect and mourn what was lost that day but also to celebrate. So today, I will take time to reflect on my father. The gifts he gave me. I’ll tell him what has happened over the last year. I will honor him.

I will also celebrate. My celebration today will be different. Today, for the first time, I will be celebrating my birthday with the woman the gave birth to me. So today should be a very good day.

27 years

The picture attached to this post is of my father. This picture captures so much about him.

You can see the intensity in his eyes and his constant drive for precision and perfection. His subtle smile lets you know his joy of sailing and being captain of the ship. His firm yet relaxed grip on the tiller lets all know he was in control. Though his smile wasn’t always present, the other traits were.

Perhaps the only things missing in this photo are a cigarette and a martini. But perhaps he didn’t need those when he was captain of the ship.

Today marks 27 years since I last saw him alive. I still remember the voice telling me to stop by my parent’s house that night. I remember having a great conversation with my dad though I do not recall what we discussed. I remember hugging him, telling him I would see him tomorrow, that I loved him and leaving. And I remember the phone call with my mother the following day when she told me the terrible news that my father had died. I remember all of it like it was yesterday. But it wasn’t yesterday it was 27 years ago.

Sireadh Toileachas

It has been some time since I have blogged. I have many excuses. Work is busy. Life is busy. The dog ate my computer. But the truth is I have not made writing a priority.

Those that have followed this blog (all 5 of you) may notice I have changed the title. The new title is Sireadh Toileachas – which means seek happiness in Gaelic (Scottish). I changed the title for a few reasons. First, change is good. Though I am uncomfortable with change, my life is better when I include change – hopefully for the better. Second, Scotland is in my blood. According to Ancestry DNA, I am 18% Scottish – also 28% England & Northwestern Europe, 14% Irish, and 5% Welsh. 23andMe classifies me as 58.7 British & Irish – clearly they don’t know there is a difference!!! Also, my middle name is Scottish. Third, I recently returned from a trip to Scotland and remain in love with the country.

But the most important reason, is I haven’t been as happy or healthy in recent months. The title was no longer accurate. A new title is needed to better reflect where I am. Further, the new title describes happiness as a journey rather than a destination.

I believe it is better to focus on the journey than the destination. I’ll write more about the experience of the journey. This may include a discussion of things I am working on to improve the world around me. This could include things that I have tried that didn’t work. It will definitely include any travel or adventures.

This blog and adventure began with my description of my three steps to success – focus, facts, and forgiveness. Focus on what you want to achieve AND why. Gather the facts, prepare a plan based on facts, implement the plan, and make adjustments. Finally, forgive yourself when you lose focus or deviate from the plan. Forgiveness allows you to restart the journey.

In recent months, I forgot about the importance of these three steps. As a result, I have slipped. Bill Gates gave a commencement speech titled “5 things I wish I heard at the graduation I never had”. He reminded all that life is not a one-act play. So, it’s time to start over and make health and happiness a priority. Over the last few years, I have relearned that life is full of second chances.

I close with an interesting anecdote about the new title. After I decided on the title, I typed the name into a search engine to find out more information and verify its meaning. Unfortunately, my short and chubby fingers accidentally misspelled the title. Instead of Sireadh Toilechas, I typed Sireadh Touleachas. Only one letter different but completely different meaning. Turns out Sireadh Touleachas means “seek help.” While I find this phrase wise and I try to apply it in my life, it is not the title I want for my blog. So for now, the title is Sireadh Toilechas – seek happiness.

Until next time – Slàinte Mhath – look it up.

Behind Every Picture is a Story

It’s been a while since I posted here. I could provide a list of excuses but that is all they are. Today, I want to talk about pictures, the stories they tell, and the stories behind them.

I have always loved taking pictures. From my first Kodak Instamtic to my present Nikon Z6, I have loved to capture moments. I don’t like to stage the moments (which is why I abhor portrait photography). I refused to spend money on a “good” camera for many years because it was just a hobby. Then one year I asked my wife to buy me a camera for Christmas – which she did!

I started by taking pictures of the birds in our backyard. When the snow melted, I took pictures of my son playing tennis.

Any parent who has watched his/her child compete in sports understands how nerve-racking this can be. I found it calmed my nerves. It allowed me to enjoy watching my son and his friends play without excessive nervousness. So I kept doing it.

Taking pictures of my son playing tennis evolved into taking pictures of my son, his team, and his friends. Eventually, I started taking pictures at Augustana sporting events. Sharing the pictures with the student-athletes and coaches. (I have taken pictures at all sports except golf (I tried but got the time wrong), track, and cross-country (maybe someday).

(still my favorite picture)

Truth is, I am not very good but I occasionally get lucky. I have no formal training. For every picture that turns out, there are ten failures. I have spent countless hours going through the pictures and deleting them. Nobody sees that side of the hobby.

I try to capture moments – like this.

And action like this.

Behind every picture is a story. The picture at the top of this post has a great story. I will think of the story every time I look at it. It’s not a great-quality picture BUT it captured a moment. The picture is of legendary Augustana basketball coach Dave Krauth. Since 1989, he has been the Head Women’s Basketball coach at Augustana University. Thirty-two seasons with only one season below .500. He coached his last game this week. A heartbreaking one-point loss in the NCAA Tournament.

I took this picture a couple of weeks ago. It was taken during the pregame of his final coaching win. I was wandering around the arena during warmups. As Coach Krauth was heading into the locker room, a fan named Scottie (if have been to Augie games you know who this is) began thanking Coach Krauth for his service and wishing him good luck in the game. It was a special conversation. As the conversation started, my camera was off and the lens cap was on. I noticed the smile on Coach Krauth’s face. It was genuine, kind, and rare in the arena. Quickly, I turned my camera on, removed the lens cap, and tried to capture the moment.

My autofocus didn’t fully focus and my framing was off. Yet, I mostly captured this moment. This picture will always be special to me because I know the story behind the picture. And now you know the rest of the story.

Christmas Eve

It is December 24.  It is a day when families and friends gather to begin Christmas celebrations. Growing up, our family would gather on Christmas eve with friends. We would have oyster stew, cheese plates, and other hors d’oeuvres.  Sometimes my parents would let me have a glass of wine or coke.  Because my father was born on December 24, we also had a birthday cake and gave him presents. At the end of the evening, the kids could open one present before bed.  We capped the evening off by opening ONE present. We always chose the gift from Grandma Harris because she ALWAYS bought us pajamas from the JC Penny in Aberdeen. 

When my father passed away, Christmas eve became a painful reminder of what was lost when he passed. I didn’t really enjoy it much. However, there were two events that changed my view. 

The first was Christmas eve 2001. It was the first Christmas of my marriage.  My wife, our oldest son, and mother traveled to our cabin in the Black Hills.  There is an incredible church in Lead, South Dakota.  It was built in the late 19th/early 20th century. Its Christmas Eve service is amazing. In 2001, the music, the service, the faith, and the fellowship were special. Words can not adequately describe the experience. The church is small, old, and quaint. The pews are wood. The lighting is poor and it was even darker for the late evening service. The sermon gave a great message though I can’t remember what was said. What I do remember is the music. There were two professional musicians with local ties. They shared their gifts with us. Somewhere, I still have the bulletin. To share this experience with my new wife, mother, and oldest son was special. It was the first Christmas Eve after my father’s passing that was not painful. The second was Christmas eve 2018. I’ve written about this before so I won’t bore you with the details.  Long story short, I am adopted. On Christmas eve 2018, after a long search, I received the first communication from my birth mother. It was an overwhelming feeling that I continue to process. Christmas eve is a time of new beginnings and connections.

Tonight, our family will gather. We have established our own traditions which include oyster stew and cheese plate. In recent years, I have purchased five different types of cheese at a local establishment. We all taste, critique, and vote for our favorite. We also enjoy each other’s company. Tomorrow, we will open gifts because it is our tradition to open gifts on Christmas day. From my house to yours, Merry Christmas.

Weekend Musings

This past week was one of corporate Christmas celebrations (i.e. an introvert nightmare). I had four Christmas parties, three work lunches, and big weekend plans.

While my eating (grazing) at the Christmas parties was poor, I continue to make exercise a priority. My morning walk (outside or on the treadmill) has become my sanctuary. During this time, I think, observe, read, listen, or exist for a few moments every day. It frees my mind and gets me ready for the day. The specific way I use this time varies. Sometimes I reflect a n what has happened. Other times plan and/or strategize my day, week, or month. I always spend a portion of the time in gratitude. At the end, I am ready to take on the day.

To be honest, today has already been tumultuous. I wasn’t supposed to get moments on the treadmill today but I did. These moments walking in solitude allow me to refocus so I can attack the day. Today I am ready.

In closing, the experts said it will snow a couple of inches last night. The experts missed the mark. It happens. So today we adapt, adjust, and enjoy the gifts we have been given. Enjoy the weekend.

2022 Gratitude Challenge Wrap

After 31 days, the 2022 Gratitude Challenge has come to a close. This is the third time I have done this challenge. Each time, I learned more about myself. I am more aware of the importance of gratitude. I find myself complaining less (even during Viking games). I am more appreciative of what is going on around me. I shift my focus on what is and what I can control.

Yesterday, I saw a portion of an interview with Charlie Munger (at 3:30 of the clip). In the interview, Munger asserts that even with all the progress humans have made, we are less happy. Technology, medicine, and other improvements have made our lives easier but we are less happy. Why are we less happy? While some would argue it is greed, Munger argues it is because of envy. Humans often want what others have that they don’t.

I think Munger is on to something. We spend so much time obsessing about what we don’t have. We want the latest gadget. All sorts of lists tell us what the “Hottest Christmas” gift is this year. The anecdote to envy is gratitude. Be grateful for what have. When you focus on what you have, you will find you have an abundance. Have a great weekend.