Rediscovering Joy

For the first time in a long time, my wife and I went out together. We saw He’s Just Not That Into You at the local Bowie movie theater and then closed out the evening with a meal at Chipotle. It was like we were back in college again!

I rediscovered something about our relationship that goes beyond our marriage. I married her because she is my best friend. I can tell her anything and she can tell me anything. The thing that astounds me more than anything else is that she will listen to me. Anyone who has spent any time with me know I love to talk. So it is a rather heroic thing on her part to put-up with my professorial perspectives on the world (That goes double for my blog readers).

I love her because she sticks it out with me no matter what I want to do. I love her because she is fearless in her career choices. She took the biggest risk by deciding to stay home with our kids. I love her for that and for taking an extra-ordinary interest in making our son and daughter sources of positive influence in the world.

I probably don’t say it enough to make a day-to-day difference, but I love her for all the things that I am not. Selfless, kind, thoughtful, and tender.

That night out at the movies brought our entire life in to sharp focus for me. My wife is the best thing that has ever happened to me. I do not regret for one moment the decision to marry her, the life we have chosen, or the challenges that will face us in the future.

Happy Valentine’s Day, Beckha.

My Father, My Mentor, My Hero

Learning and mentoring opportunities are abundant in this world. If you’re like me, you rely on your father to guide you in tough times.

I went to the National Air and Space Museum’s Steven F. Udvar-Hazy Center recently with my father and son. While my son is really fascinated by trains, he has a passing interest in airplanes. I guess we are priming the pump for future interests. I had never been to the center; my father had gone many times before. As we were walking through the exhibits, my father was describing what planes he saw on the Enterprise. He pointed at the the F4 and mentioned, “[T]hese were on the carrier all the time.” It was at that moment it struck me, “He has actually seen these in service.”

You forget that your parents lived lives before your own.

My Mentor

My father retired from Federal Service in 2003 and achieved some significant degrees of success (See the Systems and Services Hammer Award). So I rely on him a great deal to advise me on any variety of topics.

During the whole outing, I was peppering him with questions about my career, the decisions I had made, and his experience in similar circumstances. The topic of the day was how I interact with others and what I need to do to improve my interpersonal skills. Between the moments of childcare, he obliged me with answers. The most valuable piece of advice?

Make open statements, not closed statements. Open statements are free of judgment, turn listeners into participants to the conversation, and build consensus. I recognize that I am a rather judgmental person, so this is an extra-special challenge for me. Open the conversation with an invitation, “I am thinking about X. I am thinking about X because of [circumstance A] and [condition B] and [perception C]. What do you think?”

Closed statements are less about an invitation and are more directional. Your intent is to drive action or derive a result that suits your needs. This approach constrains participation and supplies listeners with tasks to accomplish. This is neither good nor bad, but it draws a bright line for me between management and persuasion.

My Hero

My father embodies what it means to have dangerous ideas. He thinks very directly about a problem and derives a solution rather quickly. He has arrived at the conclusion long before others do, but he won’t tell you his thoughts until he hears yours. Whether he adjusts his idea to incorporate yours will be unclear to you, but either way he will capture your approval. He also thinks big and goes bold. If there is a legacy that he left on government it was his deliberate measures to reduce government spending in information technology and services. Something that, only now, I fully appreciate.

I am lucky to have you as a father and Ben is lucky to have you as his grandfather.

Thanks, Dad. I love you.