Versions

"Do you ever feel you've become the worst version of yourself?" ~Joe Fox in You've Got Mail

I'm struck by the relevance of this question and often ask this of myself after a moment of weakness or failure. Whether you're maintaining a relationship with a significant other or developing a relationship with your kids, being self-aware of your best and worst is humbling, but also empowering. When you look at your versions--the combination of your attitude, decisions and behaviors in a given day--and ask yourself which version your wife/husband, boyfriend/girlfriend, dad/mom, son/daughter sees most, it can give you a good indication of whether you're giving enough of the best of yourself. If the answer is "usually the crabby version," it's really no wonder that spouses develop resentment and kids take on bad habits.

"Know thyself," said Socrates. These two words are timelessly significant for anyone trying to make a go of just about anything. Who are you today?

So much for Easy Street

I live on the border of suburbia. Not quite a city boy, not quite a country boy. Granted, I work in the big city, but the place I call home is quite literally on the fringe of suburbia. If I had a north window and you looked out of it, you would see town homes, houses, traffic, and construction sites. If you look out the south window, you see farm land and a few scattered houses. Now that I think about it, my childhood home was the same way. To the east was the grand city of Faribault. To the west, the country.

Can someone be drawn to such divides...not just the geographical, but the social and political and the spiritual? Is it possible that the chemistry and spirit that make up my body and soul were melded in such a fashion that I do not plant my foot on either mountain, but rather, settle in the valley between?

I suppose things are not always so in-between, but it's interesting how the things we were often so sure of as a child--our good friends, our ability to trust blindly, what we like, what we are good at, what we want to be when we grew up--often turn out a little fuzzy as adults. Does growing wiser really require that our ability to so easily choose must be sacrificed? Or is it a sign an opening mind?