Month: January 2013

Sleeping Around

Posted on by Phil Corbett

“Hi. My name is Phil Corbett. I am happily unmarried but I sleep around a lot.”

How’s that for an attention getter? I actually used to use that as an introduction when I was directing retreats. I was fairly successful at getting the participants’ attention, as well as some pretty concerning looks.

I guess I should explain.

I got married later in life than most of my friends. While they were starting families, I was still trying to figure out how to start a relationship. (Some of you are nodding in agreement right now – I know it!) On weekends, certain holidays and other times when I had nothing to do, many of these friends would invite me to spend time with their families, often letting me sleep overnight. That is what I mean by “sleeping around.” Sorry if you were looking for something more scandalous or controversial.

These experiences were significant to me and led to the development of one of my many theories of life, and probably my favorite one – each of us has a family by chance and a family by choice.

Our family by chance is our family of origin. Whether by birth or adoption, we are added to this family by chance and not by any decision we make. Some are fortunate and have loving, supportive families by chance. Others are not as fortunate.

Our family by choice is the people with whom we develop relationships throughout our lives. For this, we should all be fortunate because we get to choose who they are.

I have been blessed to have a wonderful family by chance. I am the fifth of eight children in a loving, supportive, but by no means perfect, family. Every year we reserve a retreat center for three days to celebrate our family Christmas. Once again, this year, my parents, all my siblings and most of their children were able to make it, some traveling a few hours by car, others driving from Texas, or flying in from Massachusetts and Pennsylvania. Every other summer, my dad’s family (the children, grandchildren, etc. of Grandma Irene from an earlier post) gathers for a three-day campout, at which usually over one-hundred relatives show up. I could not have asked for a better family by chance.

I have also been blessed with my family by choice, but I have been wise with it, too. I have been fortunate to have wonderful people cross my path throughout my life and I have been wise enough to choose to grow those relationships.

My family by choice consists of people who have been supportive when I needed to be held up. They are people who have challenged me when I have needed to be enlightened. They are people who have been willing to listen to my ramblings when I needed to figure out the meaning of life. They are people from whom I have gained great wisdom and insight just by listening to them.

Most importantly, they are the people who have encouraged me to let my light shine, cultivating what is right about me, instead of digging up what is wrong about me, and I realize I am a better person because of them.

Far too many people spend their lives trying to change their family by chance. I think that effort could be much better spent developing their family by choice.

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Please Don’t Tell My Wife This

Posted on by Phil Corbett

Please don’t tell my wife this – I like it when she travels for work. It is good to have her out of the house for a while.

Did I just say that?

Some of you who know me are thinking I should drop the shovel while I can still climb out of the hole I am digging, but you would also know I am not wise enough to do that. So before the hole becomes a grave, I better explain.

You see, I become a better parent and my kids become better kids when my wife is gone. Okay, that doesn’t sound quite right either.

Let me start from the beginning.

My wife and I have been married for 12 years. We have three children, ages 11, 8, and 6. When our oldest son was born, my wife became a full-time, stay-at-home mom. When he was about 10 months old, my wife recognized a need to get out and interact with other adults and, therefore, started her career in direct sales, doing home parties and educating people on the value of educational toys. This meant leaving the house a handful or more evenings a month for parties and other events and traveling to trainings and conventions several times per year.

That is what made me a better parent. Actually, my wife leaving made us both better parents. How? For me, it forced me to trust myself as a parent. It forced me to rely on my own skills, rather than relying on my wife to handle things like she would all day. It forced me to figure out more things to cook for dinner, though, pancakes and frozen pizza were perfectly acceptable and very popular for a long time.

For my wife, it forced her to let go of the notion that her way of doing something was the only way to do it. (Still, her way was usually the best, most effective, and, at times, the safest way to do something). This letting go also took some pressure off of her because we were able to be equals as parents, which, as she found out when she traveled to some homes, was not the case everywhere.

My wife leaving was also good for the kids. Our kids got to see their amazing stay-at-home mom get dressed up to also go be an amazing and confident career woman. They got to see her earn trips to wonderful places (which they got to experience only in pictures) because of how good she was at her job. They got to see that though her family was the most important thing in her life, just as with their daddy, it was not the only thing in her life that defined her.

Since last April, my wife has been working on the corporate side of direct sales, training and coaching others. She still works mostly from home but is traveling more often and for longer periods of time. She just recently returned from being gone for five days at a conference.

Once again, it was great for us. I enlisted the help of my parents and my kids got to spend some wonderful time with their papa and grandma. But there was more to it this time. I realized that when one of us or both of us is gone, our kids rely on themselves and each other a little more and grow up a little more. They also miss us a little more and appreciate us a little more. The looks on the faces of the kids and their mother, as they reunited at the airport, were evidence of that and truly priceless.

One last thing, when my wife travels for work, other people get to see how amazing she is, too.

Yes, I do like it when my wife travels for work but I love it when she is home.

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Honking and Helping

Posted on by Phil Corbett

Many years ago, a speaker at a conference asked the question, “Are you a honker or a helper?” Basically, what she meant was when the stoplight turns green and the car ahead does not move, is the first inclination to honk or to wonder if the driver needs help. She then spent some time relating her “honker or helper” theme to life, in general, asking what the conference attendees first inclination is when people do things that inconvenience or irritate them. Do they honk and complain or help and offer assistance?

I would suggest most all of us are faced with honking and helping situations every day. I know I am and I have honked way too many times. To be honest, though, I am choosing to help a lot more and honk a lot less, even seldom.

A few years ago, on a flight to North Carolina, a young mother sitting in the row in front of me was struggling with her rather loud and restless child. In an attempt to settle him down, she let him take out his video game, which only made things worse for those of us around him because he did not have any headphones. It should not take much to imagine the looks those nearby were giving the mother. Remembering what the woman at the conference said, I chose to help, rather than honk, and handed him the ear-buds to my iPod, which made the remainder of the flight much more enjoyable for all.

A few months later, on a family trip out East, I made the mistake of trying to drive through New York City on I-95 and traveled less than two miles in over two hours. Trust me, there were many opportunities to honk – and one to help. A minivan was stalled in the middle of the left lane, causing all vehicles to merge to one lane and slow traffic down even more. Instead of adding to the chorus of honking, I decided to park in front of the minivan and help the occupants push it to the side, allowing cars to drive by. As a Twins fan, had I known before I stopped they were Yankee fans going to an afternoon ball game, I may have changed my mind. Still, I am glad I chose to help rather than honk.

I know these examples are fairly minor but these are the types of situations we encounter all the time and you never know the ripple effect helping someone rather than honking will have on his or her day.

I do wonder, though, if Jesus were alive today and telling the Good Samaritan parable, instead of using the road to Jericho, wouldn’t the setting be a backed-up interstate, a crowded airplane or some other ordinary situation most of us encounter every day?

My Role Models

Posted on by Phil Corbett

The big news this week was the confession of Lance Armstrong. I have to admit, I so wanted Lance to be telling the truth all those years, winning the seven Tour de France titles cleanly. I was a Lance fan. I watched the TDF because of him. I saw the stories on his training regimen and it encouraged me to get on my bike. I read his book and was inspired by his fight against cancer. I wear a yellow bracelet and admire the work he has done helping others with cancer.

I’m not shocked he doped. Nor am I disheartened. Yes, I was a fan of his but he was not a role model of mine.

For me, the bigger and better news this week came in the form of a video shared over Facebook. The video is about the 2012 Sports Illustrated Kids SportsKids of the Year. If you haven’t seen it, Google it and watch the video. I won’t ruin it for you if you have not seen it but basically the story is about a 9-year-old boy who competes in triathlons with his brother. I dare you watch it and tell me you were not inspired by their story.

Yes, the older brother in the story inspires me but he would not a role model of mine, either.

I believe my role models should be people I know, people much closer to my home – some even in my home. Like my 11-year-old son who has the courage to try new activities, not knowing if he will be good at them or not. Or my 8-year-old daughter and 6-year-old son whose hearts are bigger than their small bodies. Or their mother and my wife (the same person), whose passion for everything she does is infectious.

Some parents at my church are role models to me. They have three boys – all young men now. The oldest two are significantly disabled. The youngest is extremely bright and attending a prestigious college. For how challenging I imagine their life can be, I do not believe I have ever seen either one of them not smiling. They help me keep my life in perspective and remind me of the importance of being positive.

I could list many more role models, all having a trait or two that I admire and want to emulate. I try not to put them on a pedestal because the only direction they have to go from there is down. I am well aware they have faults, though I may not know, nor care to know, what their faults are. Actually, the fact they have faults make them even more of a role model because it means they are human, just like me.

Charles Barkley, former NBA great, was right. We need to stop looking to celebrities for role models and look to parents and teachers (and children, and friends, and neighbors, and you get the point).

The Magic Gum: Parenting How To (not) 101

Posted on by Phil Corbett

I remember when I was the expert at parenting. I had answers to most every parenting problem there was and was so confident in my advice I was willing to offer it for free, often without being asked.  I know. How thoughtful and generous of me.

Then I got married and had kids.

I have to admit there are times I would like to go back and slap that earlier version of myself and knock him off his high horse. (Any of you reading this who were the recipients of my former-self’s advice, you may go back and slap him, too.)

Celebrating humanity is just as much acknowledging, accepting and even embracing our shortcomings, as it is recognizing the positive things we do. I suggest there is no better topic to point out our humanness than parenting.

I think I am a pretty typical parent. Doing the best I can but making mistakes everyday – often the same mistakes over and over. Still, there are times I find myself wanting to put money into a therapy account for my kids to use when they are adults because of all the mistakes I make.  

One of the best therapies for me as a parent is hanging out with other parents. Sure is it nice to get a few hours, even a night, away. More importantly, it is great to hear the stories other parents tell so I can be reminded I am fairly normal. Today, therefore, I am providing a little free therapy for those of you who are parents and maybe just a little humor for those of you who are not.

Here goes. Several years ago, when my daughter was around four, she asked if she could have a piece of gum that was sitting on the counter. For some good reason neither of us now remembers, my wife and I said no. (It probably had something to do with finding chewed gum getting stuck around the house.) So instead, our daughter asked if she could have some candy from the candy jar. We said yes.  She chose some Smarties. 

A little while later, we noticed our daughter was chewing on something. We asked her if she took a piece of gum from the counter. She said no. We then asked her how the gum got in her mouth and she said the candy “magically” turned to gum. Catching her in an obvious lie, we gently tried to persuade her to tell the truth, using the “what you did was wrong and you will have consequences but not telling the truth about it is worse” line. She stuck with her silly story. We were a little worried that something pathological might be going on so we gently pressed a little more and still no change in her story. I don’t really remember how the discussion ended or the consequence we gave her.  We definitely let her know our disappointment in her for not telling the truth and hoped a little guilt might change the behavior next time.

Life went on and a month or so later, I needed to satisfy my sweet tooth.  I looked into the candy jar and saw some Smarties and popped a roll into my mouth.  I started chewing and “magically” the Smarties turned to gum.  I never knew Smarties made a gum!

Needless to say, my wife and I went to our daughter with our tails between our legs begging for her forgiveness.

Thankfully, our daughter accepted our apology and we still laugh about it today, which is fortunate since I have not yet opened up the therapy account.

Who Needs What I Have?

Posted on by Phil Corbett

If you Google “four questions in life” like I did, the first page of your search results will most likely consist of some information about Don Juan DeMarco, Johnny Depp, a couple of doctors, and a few other more existential offerings.

When I think of the four questions in life, I think of Fr. Don Piche.

About 10 years or so ago, some friends and I were guest musicians at Fr. Don’s church. In addition to getting the opportunity to play music with some very talented people, I got to hear his sermon twice, which was a good thing, because it was excellent. The sermon centered on four questions motivating us at different stages in our lives. I do not remember if he came up with the questions himself or if he was borrowing material from someone else. I don’t even know if I remember exactly what he said anymore. I just know he spoke about the four questions and some variation of those questions has stuck with me since. Here is my variation.

During our younger years, others (usually parents) are responsible for providing for our needs and what is left to influence us is answering the question “Do I have what I want?” As we get older and begin to separate from our parents or caregivers, we take on more responsibilities for our lives and the question most pressing is usually “Do I have what I need?” As we get more settled into our adult lives, accumulating more things and filling up the storage spaces in our houses and garages, we may stare at our “stuff” and ask ourselves “Do I need what I have?” At this point, it is important to ask ourselves the final question – “Who needs what I have?”

Unfortunately, we know not everyone gets beyond the second question. Do I have what I need, or more likely, do we have what we need, is a question many families ask for prolonged periods of time. As someone who grew up feeling like a child on Christmas morning each time a box of hand-me-downs arrived from my cousins, I enjoy going through our family’s stuff and taking a load of it to Catholic Charities or Goodwill. I love the idea of getting rid of clutter. More importantly, I enjoy knowing someone else will be able to use what I have more than I do.

Who needs what I have, though, should pertain to all stages of life. Whether we are five or fifty-five, there is usually something we have that could benefit someone else. It may not always be our stuff, though. Sometimes, just a little bit of our time and effort is all others need from us.

An unexpected result of my post, Making a Difference, was getting emails from my cousins with other stories of the things my grandma did. One story that struck me illustrates this time and effort thought well.

One day a neighbor boy went up to his room with a shotgun and took his own life. While the mother was making funeral arrangements, Grandma gathered some neighbors, some pails, soap, rags and clean sheets to go clean up the mess. When some folks hesitated, Grandma said “there is no way that mom is going to face any more heartache coming home to that terrible scene. She’s going to find that bedroom exactly as it was before he died”. And that’s just what Grandma and others did. Wow!

Yes, often a little bit of our time and effort is what is most needed.

How Great Thou Art

Posted on by Phil Corbett

I live in Minnesota in the St. Cloud metro area. For those of you not familiar with Central Minnesota, St. Cloud is a city of around 65,000 people, about an hour northwest of Minneapolis. I think we residents of the area are very fortunate to have access to numerous athletic and cultural events, especially theatrical and musical.

One such event occurred last November and December when the Great River Educational Arts Theatre (GREAT) put on A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens. It was an amazing production! I know – I was in it.

Don’t get me wrong, what was amazing about the production had little to do with my acting, singing and dancing ability. My two left feet became tangled more than once and trying to sing and dance, while swinging a push broom, was challenging for me, if not slightly hazardous. (My balding head has the marks to prove it.)

Still, the performance was excellent, and according to most who attended, it was a production more than worth the price of the ticket. As we say in Minnesota, “not too bad” for a community theatre cast and crew of 60 or so volunteers, with varying degrees of theatrical experience and ability, and a handful of individuals directing and leading us, who I believe were compensated but far less than they were worth.

To me, though, what was most amazing about the production was not the final product but the experience itself.

To be clear, I’m a sports guy. I have participated in athletics at the high school and college level. I have coached various sports from the youth to the varsity level. I believe there is great value in competing and in winning and losing. I believe participating in athletics builds life-long skills and character.

I have never witnessed such growth, though, as I saw in my then 8-year-old son when he auditioned and was chosen for a play four years ago. Dropping him off for rehearsal three to four nights per week and on Saturdays for six weeks and seeing the changes in him when I picked him up several hours later sold me on the value of theatre and the arts.

Inspired by him, my 8-year-old daughter and I decided to audition for A Christmas Carol and made the cast. Through six weeks of rehearsing (two to three hours each night, three to four nights a week and five hours on Saturdays) and twelve performances over three weeks I got to witness first hand what my son experienced and came away with experiences and insight to last me a lifetime.

I got to witness and experience parent/child bonding when both are teaching each other, learning from each other and encouraging each other. I got to struggle through some rocky moments with the rest of the cast, crew and directing team, wondering if everything would come together and then realizing after more hard work and practice, things got better. I got to truly understand the meaning of “the show must go on” when cast members (including me) screwed up a line or a step and had no time to pout about it because the rest of cast was counting on us to get our next lines or steps right. My belief that our future is in good hands was reaffirmed because I got to hang out with and get to know young people in their teens and twenties and see the amazing things they are doing. Just the auditioning process itself was a valuable experience because it meant having the courage to dance, sing and read lines for the directing team, in front of 50 or so other people auditioning, knowing the chances of being selected were maybe 50-50 because another 50 or so were auditioning the next night.

Probably the most rewarding experience of all was watching my daughter work hard for six weeks, and though still being very nervous on opening night, have the courage to skip out on stage and perform in front of a full house. Because she did, she gained confidence to last a lifetime.

I repeat – I believe there is value in competing and in winning and losing. But I also believe there is just as great a value, if not more, in people working together so everyone ends up succeeding. Unfortunately, too often the end result of a sporting event leaves one side, at best, unhappy and, at worst, yelling and screaming. As a youth coach, I have been a witness to way too many screaming and yelling matches. As a high school coach, I ashamedly admit, at times, I was a participant.

What is great about the theatre is the only screaming and yelling is usually by the audience saying job well done.

For this, I say “How Great Thou Art!”

Making A Difference

Posted on by Phil Corbett

Some people strive to change the world. Most of us hope to just have a positive impact on the world around us. That is okay. Enough people making seemingly small differences in their worlds can affect the larger world. To me, that is what Paying It Forward and committing Random Acts of Kindness are all about – doing little things to effect a bigger change.

Of course, long before those phrases became popular, people were making a difference. Irene is one of those people. Though she died 20 years ago, at the age of 89, her unconditional love for people, her steadfast belief in the goodness of people, and her willingness to reach out to people in need is an inspiration still today.

Irene and her husband, Harold, raised four biological children and were official foster parents to an additional 51 children, including one who stayed for over 12 years. He is actually considered one of Irene and Harold’s five children and a brother by the four biological children. In addition to the 51 official foster children, they took in dozens of other children whose families were struggling somehow. Some stayed for a few days and some for a few weeks. All stayed for free.

Irene found one such child in a post office. After striking up a conversation with a young mother, Irene found out the mother needed to have an operation and had no place for her baby to stay. Irene offered to take care of the baby and the mother accepted. Irene had no assurance that the mother would come back for the baby but she just trusted that the mother would. Several weeks later, the mother did.

During the Depression of the 1930s, Irene often provided meals at her home for hungry and homeless wanderers. Once she hired an armless man to do some yard work for her and then decided he needed a bath and some clean clothes, especially socks. One of her children found her on the floor trimming the man’s toenails so they wouldn’t cut holes in the new socks she gave him.

While having coffee at a local bakery, Irene overheard an employee asking a man who was loitering to leave. The man said he was waiting for his granddaughter to pick him up. The employee told the man if he was not gone in a half an hour, he would call the police. After finishing her coffee, Irene told the employee to call her, not the police, if the man’s granddaughter did not show up. Of course, soon after she got home, Irene got the call. She had someone go get him and bring him to her home. She fed him, got him cleaned up and gave him some of her husband’s clothes.

Irene knew of an elderly bachelor in her neighborhood who had lived a lonely life, with few relatives or friends, if any. She took it upon herself to go to his apartment daily to take care of him. On the man’s last birthday before he died, she baked a cake, grabbed some of her grandchildren and threw him a party. He wept.

Even when her husband was in the hospital, Irene did not stop reaching out to others. If other patients’ relatives did not have a place to stay, many ended up eating and staying at Irene’s.

When Irene died in 1992, her obituary in the Star Tribune, Minnesota’s leading newspaper, was four inches high and five columns wide. Irene did not die wealthy but she died rich – rich from a lifetime of touching the lives and hearts of others and making a difference. She was “paying it forward” and committing “random acts of kindness” before either were even thought of.

Now I admit, with the way things are today, it can be difficult, even dangerous, to do some of the things Irene did. We may not be able to do the same actions Irene did but there is nothing stopping us from having the same attitudes Irene had. When we look outward and not just inward, focusing on helping others and not just making sure we are taken care of, it is amazing the impact we can have. I know many people, including me, have tried to live their lives inspired by Irene’s example.

By the way, though most people called her Irene, I just called her Grandma.

Note: These examples are just a few of the many things Grandma did in her life. To give credit where credit is due, I became aware of them through conversations with my father and his siblings and through two newspaper articles published many years ago in the Star Tribune by Oliver Towne and Robert T Smith.

Turning the Other Cheek

Posted on by Phil Corbett

I did many, well, dumb things as a kid. Maybe no more than the average kid – maybe many more. Who knows. I am pretty sure I have forgotten more than I remember. One I do remember happened on the playground of Sacred Heart Elementary School, in Staples, MN. I am not sure what grade I was in but I do remember listening to the priest at Mass that morning talk about “turning the other cheek.” I am sure he said many profound things but the one idea I picked up on was that if you turn the other cheek, and the person slaps that one too, the person will probably feel bad about it afterwards.

I found that interesting so I figured I would test out his theory. During recess, I approached another student and asked him to slap me in the face. He obliged. I turned my cheek and asked him to slap me again. Once again, he obliged. I then asked him if he felt bad about it. He said he didn’t.

So maybe my little sociological experiment did not turn out the way I had hoped. I do wonder, though, if turning the other cheek has become a lost practice. Watch any pro sports event and most likely you will see at least one example of a player retaliating because of something that was done or said to them. Follow many political campaigns and sometimes retaliation is all you see.

I understand, in sporting events and political campaigns, emotions can run high. Sometimes retaliating makes strategic sense and just ends up costing the player’s team a few yards or a few points or costing a candidate a few votes (or not). Too often, though, the arena and political life gets imitated in real life and not turning the other cheek ends up costing someone his or her life. How many lives have been lost because someone’s “manhood” or “womanhood” was insulted and words escalated to violence?

I am not saying people should not defend themselves or their families or that countries should not protect their citizens. There are some bad people out there who would not think twice about slapping as many cheeks as they can get the backhands on. Those bad people need to be dealt with. I am also not saying the alternative to fighting is fleeing. Turning the other cheek does not mean tucking one’s tail and running away. You can turn the other cheek and still stand your ground. It’s just we do not hear enough about the people who turn the other cheek. They choose to take the high road and all are better for it.

Yes, sometimes people push our buttons and we just can’t take it any more and we get upset. That seems to be one of the defining characteristics of being a parent. I know when that happens to me, I not only lose my effectiveness as a parent, I end up asking myself, why did I show them my buttons in the first place.