How Failing to Love Well, Teaches Us to Love Well
The point of life, in many ways, is to learn to get “over” yourself.
Hello Beautiful Beings!
My young adult kiddo, Kato, was born six weeks premature. At the time, I was in the air force and deployed to the Middle East—scheduled to be home five weeks before their birth. I distinctly recall the moment I found out Kato had arrived. I was chilling in a dining hall in Kuwait with fellow airmen when our squadron’s commander, Lt. Col. Griffith came in and waved me over. “Hey, Kermit,” he said with a twinkle in his eye, “come over here for a second.” (Kermit was my callsign in the air force)
Wondering why the boss wanted to talk to me, with a bit of trepidation, I wound around the table to stand across from him. “Congratulations,” he said with his hand outstretched, “you’re a dad!”
(Kato and I in the NICU)
While I was supposed to be in Kuwait for several more days, Griff quickly pulled some strings and got me on a plane later that night/early morning to return home. While it took roughly 24-hours for me to get from the air base to Frankfurt, to Baltimore, to Atlanta, to Tucson (or something close to that), time stood still for me. The trip was a whirlwind. In the way military folks have each other’s backs in powerful and profound ways, as Kato’s mom Amy rested at home, I was greeted at the Tucson airport by my good buddies, Josh “Mule” Koslov and Ramiro “Jefe” Santoyo.
Thanks to the love and care of quite a few people, while Kato was born on a Thursday, I got home from the Middle East on Friday night to see them. The only problem was, they weren’t home … and wouldn’t be for a good while. While their early entry into the world at five-plus pounds wasn’t life threatening, per se, there were a number of concerns that kept Kato in the NICU (Neonatal Intensive Care Unit), for a month.
“When you know better, you do better.” – Maya Angelou
I got to thinking about this the other day, while I was taking a Father’s Day Peloton ride (aka spin class) from Cliff Dwenger. As he shared how present, loving, and uplifting he’s been with his 3-year-old daughter, I mourned the ways I was not ready to be that for Kato in their initial months. While also celebrating how my missteps, turned out to be the fertile soil from which greater lovingkindness grew … but I’m skipping ahead.
At the time, I was completely oblivious to the importance of a parent attaching to, bonding with, and attuning with their child early on. While Kato was in the hospital, I averaged about two hours a day with them. Some days, I even gave myself “permission” to not see them at all. This me-centric mentality, which carried through the first several months of their life, is one of the biggest regrets of my life.
(Since my callsign was Kermit, Bombshell nicknamed Kato “Tadpole” and bought this frog)
While the story in my head at the time was, this nonverbal, presumably not “conscious” and self/others-aware baby only needed me a little bit. As I later learned, the truth was, they needed me a lot! The measure of presence, absence, availability, and attentiveness of a parent for their child, it turns out, deeply shapes them. Presence, availability, and attentiveness lets them know the world is safe and loving. While absence and indifference, teaches them life is cold, uncaring, and—at least—slightly scary.
Do you know what I mean? Can you relate? And how about the balancing act parents have to perform? Given they also have adulting, chores, jobs, other relationships to nurture, cooking, shopping, and more to juggle with being a parent.
Isn’t being human massively complex … and also fascinating?
With grace and understanding to myself … Side note, isn’t that what we all crave and need? Grace and understanding? With grace and understanding to myself, today I realize, at that time I was self-centered in a quite normal way.
To put it differently. I quite resonate with the view that there are two “halves” to our life. In the first half, we strive to build success, happiness, wealth, “salvation” as we understand it, prestige, etc. We start out doing our best to make a name for ourselves. We endeavor to stand out. In the first half of life, we tend to perceive life as a competition we’re here to “win.” Then, life ends up teaching us, that is not The Way.
(My mom cuddling napping Kato)
Whether it’s the loss of a job, an illness, a divorce, the loss of a dear one, or ____; life inevitably ends up showing us that the path to flourishing isn’t about “me, myself, and I.” Some sort of great loss is often the “key” that unlocks the second half of life for us. Wherein, we realize: Life isn’t a game to be won individually, it’s a lesson in loving communally. We don’t thrive alone, we rise together.
Life is a team sport.
I still remember the bliss Amy and I felt the day we finally got to take Kato home. It was pure joy! And, I can still feel how icky it felt deep inside me when I essentially told Amy: As an aviator, it’s important for me to get a full night’s sleep, which means you’ll have the nighttime childcare duties. I’m truly sorry for that, Amy!
(Kato has always loved animals)
Still very much in the trying to make a name for myself paradigm, later that year I got perhaps the most prestigious job a captain in the air force can get. I became an instructor at the US Air Force Weapons School (it’s like the navy’s Top Gun, only it came first, and is a longer course). I was selected to teach the best of the best, and thought I was on top of the world.
That is, until my personal life crumbled when Kato was a year-and-a-half old. You see, in my drive to succeed, I’d forgotten what matters most: People. While I wasn’t a mean, unkind, or “bad” person at the time. I also was not particularly giving, caring, sensitive, understanding, or compassionate.
The point of life, in many ways, is to learn to get “over” yourself.
Over the course of a year, Amy’s and my marriage unraveled, re-raveled, and then ended. This was simultaneously brutal and beautiful; in that it held up a mirror to my life. It revealed how I’d been self-focused to the detriment of those near and dear to me. This, over time, taught me:
Giving is great.
Kindness is happiness.
Compassion gives wings to everyone involved.
The more we care for one another, the more we all flourish.
Love is the point.
What do you think? What’s your journey with loving others been like? Where do you want to go?
Hugs & Love,
Lang (aka “Dr. Love”)
Profound as usual. Thank you, Lane 💜