Faith, Fate and Free Will

There are three things in life that I've been pondering since I was old enough to think for myself. My beliefs about these ideas are in part what shapes the way I lead my life today. Although they are very different concepts to most people, I see them as three ideals that complement each other quite well in my life.

I was raised in the Jewish faith. I learned about God at a very young age when I attended religious school. I soon felt that I had developed a relationship with God which was greatly nurtured by my parents in my upbringing. Because of that, my faith in God has never wavered. I have always believed in the higher power and I have always been awed by his creations. However, I have never believed for a moment that he has been controlling my life or the decisions that I've made. For me, God has been "the great spiritual spectator". Whether I've been confronted with tough challenges or have been presented with easy decisions, I know that the choices I've made have more or less been observed and noted by him. Sometimes I have even felt that I've been tested by him as well. I've often asked myself when I reach one of those many forks in the long road of life, "How will this choice affect my future?" and furthermore, "How will he judge the decisions that I've made". Often I think that he's just as concerned with how my decisions affect my fellow man. In any case, my decisions are just that...mine. How I am judged for the decisions I've made will be something I'll have to get back to you on. But many times in life, I believe, decisions are meant to be made about something he presents to us.

With respect to fate, there are those that might think that the only thing we are "fated" to do is to die at the end of our lives. For me, I believe that this is not necessarily the case. Because I believe in God, then I believe there is a plan. I believe that we are put here to learn something about ourselves that we can influence through our own actions before the eyes of God. Fate is defined as something that unavoidably befalls a person or is something that is destined to be. I would suggest that even if this is the case, the way we get to that destination is still through the means of our own actions. Here is a perfect example. Prior to the point in life when I met my wife, there were three opportunities in which we could have met. The first was in college. She was there first and I soon followed. We had both gone through the same program and had the same classes that were taught by the same professors. However, because of our actions, or our inactions, we missed each other. A few years later, (as fate would have it), we were both in attendance at the same concert. (Because I'll get asked this later, I will oblige your curiosity now and tell you that it was an Aerosmith concert). It was the same show, in the same city and venue, on the same night. Once again, the opportunity was there...and then gone. The third opportunity was after we had both established ourselves in our careers. We were working at different television stations in the same market. In pursuing a new job, I ventured up the road to the competing television station where she happened to be working. But to fate's dismay, I didn't get the job. So after three missed opportunities, fate had decided to intervene one more time. In a bit of an ironic twist my wife pursued a new job for herself at the television station where I was working. Needless to say she got the job and that was when we met. So to say we were fated to meet is probably an understatement. To say that we were destined to be together might be going a bit too far. I believe that fate presented us with the choice, but it was of our own free will that brought us together.

Free will, on the other hand, is just that. It is nothing tricky nor any big mystery in life. We are all accountable for our own actions. In my opinion, we are defined by what we do...how we treat each other...and the choices we make and act upon. When we were young, it was very easy to blame a sibling and say, "He (or she) made me do it". As we get older, we know better. We try and make better decisions and hope that what we decide brings peace in our hearts and to those around us. Sometimes though, that's not always the case. But the ability to think for ourselves enables the ability to control ourselves. By the same standards, we also find that we can either benefit or be hurt by someone else's free will. It's kind of scary knowing that you can be influenced in some way by the free will of any one of the nearly 7 billion other people out there. That's a whole lot of free will. But let's not focus on all of them, let's just worry about those around us and ourselves. "Free" is a word we take for granted. Let's be grateful we have it and let's be responsible with what comes of it.

So what does any of this have to do with embracing forty? For the most part, it has been a thought process that has worked for me so far and one that I plan to continue into my next forty years. How will this shape my future? I would like to believe that my faith in God combined with faith in myself will lead me to make good decisions of my own free will about the situations that fate may present. If I can do that, it will ultimately lead me to a happier place in life.

And So It Begins...

I don’t feel 40. Not even close, actually.

At least I didn’t until February 22, 2010. That is a date that will live in infamy for me. I did something that day that many would just shrug off. Some might even say, “I think you’re losing it, Mike.” Maybe I am. I did something that day that I once told myself I would never do. I COULD NEVER do. I’ve even mocked those who have done it before me. This doesn’t happen to me. I always pay attention to what I’m doing. I check to be sure, and then I double check. I have a finely tuned radar built right into my head. My every move is very carefully thought out, that is, until this one single day…when I slipped up. For one solitary moment, I lost my concentration…and as a result…I’m sorry to say that I did something I can’t take back. Yes, it’s true. I washed my cell phone in the washing machine. I just forgot about it. I left it in my pocket. There. I said it. BUT WAIT! I know what you’re thinking. Are you kidding? That’s it??? That’s all you did? Come on…you’ve got to do better than that! But hear me out I tell you. HEAR ME OUT. This is just the beginning. It only starts by taking your cell phone for a spin in the washing machine. Today it’s washing the cell phone…tomorrow it’s forgetting to take my pill. (And no…not the little blue one. Let’s not even begin to think about that. Oh the humanity!)

But really, can’t you see where I’m going with this? My father might say I’m in the beginning stages of what he would call “Old Timers Disease”. He always tells me when he forgets things. (At least he does when he remembers to tell me about them). But when my nieces and nephews ask me years from now…”Uncle Mike, when did you first start feeling old?” I’ll sit back, place my hand to my chin, think long and hard about it, (hoping I can even remember that moment) and then nostalgically tell them….”the day I forgot my phone in my pants…then washed it.” Why? It’s simple really. It was the epiphany I had of accepting the fact that I could be so forgetful. Sure, I’ve been forgetful in the past…just ask my wife. But now I’m admitting it, thereby breaking down the walls of invincibility of my teens, twenties and even my thirties while chalking it up to the fact that maybe I’m actually just getting older.

Yes, it’s true. I did have the cleanest cell phone in the house for a little while. I even used the high efficiency detergent on the normal wash cycle. But let me tell you, when I tried to resuscitate my poor little cell phone, I’m sure I created a site to behold. I gently placed the Wet-Bat (my own term for what they will one day call a waterproof cell phone battery because of people like me) back into the phone, and without even touching the power button I sadly watched as my phone started vibrating hysterically. It displayed a dark grey screen with what looked to be water droplets under the plastic covering on the inside of the phone itself. No, I tell you…it was not the screensaver. It was my pathetic little phone gasping for its final breaths. Nothing could save it now. It was gone.

So what’s next? Do I forget weekly tasks or birthdays of those near and dear? Do I forget to turn the oven off? Do I forget to pay the bills? What will it be? But then I think…Wait! I’m supposed to be embracing forty. These are changes I should welcome. So how do I turn this forgetfulness around and make it sound like a positive? What about, “But I’m pretty sure I paid my taxes, Mr. Taxman.” or “Yes. You can send the bill to my home address. It’s 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue, Washington, DC.”

All kidding aside though, I know that the true effects of aging are still a long, long way off. I still feel great. I remember much more than I forget. And I’m inquisitive enough to look at my grandparents and my wife’s grandmother (all of whom are in their upper 80s) and ask…”How did you do it?” And I’m sure their answer would be something as wise and as simple as…”just keep breathing”. These three are the people I admire the most. It’s their wisdom I crave and their experiences I continue to learn from.

Meanwhile honey, with respect to my poor little pathetic phone, I have just two questions for you:
(1) Low, medium or high? And (2) Should I use one of those fabric softener sheet thingies?

And you thought I was going to ask you for a new iPhone.

Hello World...

My name is Michael and I'm turning 40.

But let's not get ahead of ourselves. That's not going to happen for another 13 weeks...(13 weeks from today to be precise). I know. I know. I know what you might be thinking. 40 you say? Big deal. I remember turning 40 years ago. Or maybe you're thinking...40? Gosh...that's sooooo old. Or perhaps you're even thinking...Whew! I'm glad I'm not the only one having these thoughts about hitting the big 4-0. Whatever the case may be, many of us have either thought about turning 40 or have reflected on what it was like to turn 40 at some point. That being said, I'm here to share with you my own journey towards that magical mystical age.

So why do it? Why spend the next 13 weeks pondering life and blogging about it? My answer is simple...why not? Some consider 40 to be a milestone in life. In fact, you may get to a point in your own life when you begin to quantify your years in tidy neat little multiples of 10. You know, the metric system of life. Maybe you remember turning 20. You felt as though you were invincible as you stood on top of the world. Maybe you remember turning 30. You felt all the anxiety that your youth was coming to an end. But 40? Why be so reflective at 40 when there is still so much life left to live? In practical terms, according to the CDC in 2006, life expectancy in the U.S. was still only 77.7 years. So one could argue that I've already reached the half way point (although I do plan to live much longer than that). Also, let's not forget the metric rule. 40 begins the next set of 10. It introduces a new number at the front which means that the thirties will be gone forever. They will only be available to me from now on as mere memories. But the real reason I'm doing this is because of some inspiration I received a short time ago from one of the most important people in my life.

My wife, Debbie, had what I thought to be a brilliant idea. She told me one day, as she made her own journey towards her big milestone, that she wanted to do something special for her 4oth birthday. Naturally, my thoughts about the occasion ranged from an intimate dinner for two to a special party with family and friends to a weekend trip at the beach or maybe even a weeklong trip in the mountains. Whatever it was going to be, we were going to do it. She just had to tell me what she wanted to do. "You name it," I said. "Anything. Anything at all." But it turned out to be none of those things. Instead, she went on to tell me that she wanted to send letters to the people in her life she felt the closest to. That's what she wanted to do for her 40th birthday. That was it. My first reaction was..."Come again?" She continued by telling me that she didn't want her feelings towards these people to ever go unspoken or unwritten. It was important to her that they knew how she felt. These were the people who helped shape the person she is today and she wanted them to know it. They were family, friends, relatives and even colleagues of hers. So she did it. She went on to carefully write her beautiful words for each person on her list. She printed them out against a background of an artistic montage SHE created (that reflected her talents quite well I might add) then sent them off in the mail. It was amazing. And in being a fortunate recipient of one of these golden tickets, I will only say that when it was my turn, Debbie wrote me what I can only describe as the greatest love letter I've ever received. I treasure it and I still keep it on the side of the bed in my nightstand. It's probably the second greatest gift I've ever received from her. The only words I will share with you from that letter though are the words she wrote at the very end. They are the only words that aren't her own. They are the words of someone great who shares her actual birth date. The quote, which you may have heard before, goes something like this: "It's not the years in your life that count...it's the life in your years." said by none other than Abraham Lincoln. (My wife is a big fan of quotes.)

So how the heck do I top that? The simple answer is that I don't. The more complex answer is that if I want to do something to commemorate my 40 years of life, then I need to find my own way to do so. So this was my idea...a 13 week blog with two entries per week leading up to my 40th birthday. Okay...but who am I doing this for? Quite honestly and a little selfishly...I'm doing it for me. After hearing all of the jokes about getting older and turning 40 and how life is going to change even more for me, I decided not to resist it, but to embrace it. I don't claim to be a great writer or someone special who is going through something nobody else has or will. I'm just an ordinary guy writing a blog who wants to document his own journey and share it with anyone who cares. For some of you, this may be the last entry you read because you may find that you think it's cute but you're just not that interested. That is absolutely fine and I bid you adieu. For the rest of you, especially my fellow Generation X-ers (which I believe includes everyone born between 1961 and 1981) I invite you to share this journey with me. You'll laugh a lot. You might even cry a little. Heck, you may even want to forward the link to someone else you know. All I ask is this. Listen with an open mind and I'll write with an open heart. I'm turning 40 and I'd love to share the experience.