Hot Mama!

I am starting 2011 off like most other women, resolving to live a healthier lifestyle this year. Yes, I need to lose a few pounds, nothing major but a substantial personal loss last year had me running to the freezer for comfort instead of going for a run. I made lots of excuses for why I wasn't exercising. "I'm too tired", "I don't have time". In the end, I am a single mother of one and I can ill afford to not care for myself, most importantly, I need to demonstrate a life of healthy living to my daughter. Children learn much more by what they watch than what they hear.

As I finished my workout recently I walked by a long row of treadmills humming beside me and passed a magazine rack at the end of the wall. One of the covers struck me as I rounded passed it "Can't Mommy Be Sexy"? I have to admit, I stopped to read it again. I cocked my head and pondered as I entered the locker room. Can I be sexy? Should I be sexy? What is sexy anyway? What is okay and where do you draw the line?

Flying through life solo with a pre-schooler has left little room for thinking about whether or not I promote this kind of image as I am often in jeans, a long sleeve T and Converse One Stars. The question fascinated me. The definition of sexy is: marked by or tending to arouse sexual desire or interest. (Droid Dictionary). I wonder if, having read the definition, that is really what the writer was asking is acceptable. I also know that my regular attire doesn't come close.

I'd like to think that the modern movement of women to break passed the image of "sex symbol" has worked. The non-tolerance of sexual harassment and the breaking of the glass ceiling I thought afforded us more freedom to be seen as something else other than what is on personal display. I think of my daughter. What I do every day, how I act, what I say and yes, what I wear and how I conduct myself to members of the opposite sex are all being recorded in her little brain and she will take her cues from me whether I like it or not. How can I expect her to do anything different? As adults we are prone to do the same thing with those in our environment, every day!

Perhaps what was really meant was having an air of attractiveness. We should dress and present ourselves becomingly. Proverbs 31:21-22 talks about the Wife of Noble Character as being clothed in scarlet and fine linen. These kinds of garments were of high quality and were indicative of a dignitary. Should we not dress the part? Princess Diana was a beautiful, stunning woman. Indeed she was pleasing to the eye, dressed becomingly and conservatively. She was the picture of elegance and dignity. I'd like my daughter to have these words to describe me rather than sexy.

Being a widow, I don't have a husband but I tried to think of what he would say if I had strutted out of our bedroom to run off to a play date dressed like I was going to a night club. I am sure there would be a raised eyebrow or two. Even if he didn't out right protest, I wonder what he would think of his wife running out the door, purse and child in tow, dressed provocatively without him. Dressing to be noticed does one thing very well, it draws attention. I know that when I was drawing attention from the opposite sex as a married woman, it made me feel uncomfortable. I felt as though it was disrespectful to my husband for a man to knowingly flirt with his wife. I had the understanding that advances should come from my other half only.
Being made one in holy matrimony means that I was his and he was mine. Want to know if something is appropriate to wear out sans hubby? I'd ask him.

In a world struggling to be noticed physically, I am out there a singleton in the world wanting to be noticed for her heart. I want my future mate to see a beautiful woman on the inside, I don't want him to be impressed with what he might see on the outside. A conservative dress frees me to not have to have those worries and doesn't distract from what might be a meaningful and important conversation. It also won't give the wrong impression. Given my choice, I'd rather spend time with people who want to share in a conversation and a good laugh. I want my company to respect me for the spiritual being that I am. Besides, trying to roll around with kids in skinny jeans and stiletto heels is not only impractical, it's down right dangerous!

The Wall

I was at the gym this morning as I have committed, like everyone else out there, to live a healthier life in 2011. I used to love the gym and so did my late husband. The gym is where we connected and it was what we had in common that we both like to share with each other. Having a baby and a career did take me away from my workouts but I didn't have any negative thoughts about it. Returning to my fitness schedule was something I was going to get to, eventually.

Fast forward to my husband being diagnosed with Congestive Heart Failure. His condition was largely caused by his inability to stop using metabolic steroids. My buff husband was more concerned about how he looked on the outside and less concerned, if at all, about the damage he was doing on the inside. It caught up with him and took his life too early for anyone to comprehend.

My attitude toward the gym changed significantly after his passing. I hated the gym, I hated what it represented, the people involved in that lifestyle, anything and everything related to the thing that Greg loved more than me and his daughter I detested. To me, the gym was his other lover and his inability to heed my words and sometimes threats to stop using an illegal substance to modify his body chemistry told me that he placed something else above his family.

Bearing my bitterness toward all things "workout" in mind, I spiraled into a season of overeating, practically mainlining ice cream and crying. Momentum slowed in the last part of the year and I started to re-evaluate my behavior toward my body. I was unhappy with how I looked, how I felt and remorseful about demonstrating an unhealthy life to my young daughter. I am all she has parent-wise now and I can ill afford to run myself off the rails. I want to, God willing, be alive for a long time. I reconciled myself that diet and exercise were in dire need of being implemented in my life. I took stock in what things were causing me pain. Sugar made the top of the list. Sugar, to me, might as well be heroin. I can't get enough of it. I am never satisfied with whatever amount I have. It had to go. I fired my counselor, sugar, last week. Nothing sweet has passed my lips, sweetners included in about a week. I feel great. Sunday I resolved to go back to the gym. That brings me to the wall.

"I love to work out", I kept telling myself. I joined a women's gym a few months back so I didn't have to be around the meat heads or participate in the singles scene at these places. I thought I'd feel more comfortable with those obstacles and distractions away from my view. I could just really focus on what I wanted to do. I went one week, then I didn't. Then I went one day, then I didn't. I was struggling with a routine. I have time to work out now. I thought I didn't before. What gives?

The wall. The wall is what I put in front of me so I could give myself a reason not to succeed. I didn't mean to build it but there it was. Brick by brick, little by little I placed every single piece in place in a foggy, angry haze and then wondered how it got there when I came to. Fear of it taking too much time to succeed or that I wouldn't at all, resentments about what the gym had now come to represent to me, excuses (lots of those), rationalizing that I didn't have time or not enough time to get my whole workout in, "giving myself a break", every last one, mortared by my own mind, cemented to resemble truth. I reached the wall today when I wanted to stop the elliptical machine. I had programmed in 45 minutes of time. At minute 15 I was telling myself I was a 1/3 done. At minute 17 I was lamenting that fact that I wasn't half through yet and watching the clock like it speeds up if you stare at it long enough. At minute 28 I was telling myself that 30 minutes was 'pretty good' and that I could stop then. Why? I wasn't tired, I wasn't winded or sore. I just wanted to stop. The wall was there in front of me. I could make it out in front of my mind's eye. It was too tall, too thick. Too often when I face the wall I give up. "This is too hard", "I don't want to do it". I do want to do it though! I don't want to live in this body and demonstrate a sedentary life to my little girl that robs her of being able to have her mom participate in the things she wants to do. I want to be able to practice soccer with her, chase a frisbee, go sledding. I want to be an active playmate. For crying out loud, I'm not that big! I just need to shave off a few pounds and feel more fit. If I want to have those things, why do I turn away when I put forth the effort of going after those goals? As my feet glided on the little platforms there in the midst of my morning's exertion efforts I pondered. Why do I stop?
I heard a small inner voice. "Run through the wall". What? "Run through the wall". The voice was quiet but directing. It wasn't angry or condescending. "Run through the wall". The voice knew I could do it but I wasn't entirely convinced. I kept moving. "Run through the wall". I remembered a conversation in a movie about a guy who had to run a marathon to win his love's heart. Problem was, he wasn't a runner and he had about a day to train. Impossible. The two main characters had a whole conversation about a runner's wall. It is the point in distance running where the runner believes it is just not possible to keep moving. They call it "the wall". If you can run through "the wall" you can finish the marathon. The runner's high takes place after the wall has passed. I contemplated that. Before I knew it, I was on my last 10 minutes on the machine. My workout was somehow lighter, I felt invigorated and buoyant. I wasn't as hot but I was plenty sweaty. I was also pleased with finishing my task. I felt accomplished.

As I made my way home I gave this some more thought. Could I really be that angry about Greg's death that I would give up something healthy to make a point? A point to whom? Does my aversion to working out do anything to right the wrong I thought had been committed against me? Even so, the person of whom I have a resentment towards is gone now. What good does not taking care of my body do? It certainly isn't making me feel any better. There are many "walls" not just in running. It is the imaginary limit I place on myself that allows me to give up or compromise my mission. I can convince myself to a fault that the wall is there and I can't cross it. Sometimes I think I could cross it or scale it at least but I am afraid to. What if I can't? What if it isn't worth it in the end? Run through the wall. Dig your feet in, gather up speed and run, full force into the wall. Believe you can do it. The past failings, mishaps, all of it is where it is. It's gone. Stop talking to yourself about the wall and what you can't do about it. You can plow right through it. In the end, you don't need to fear something that isn't really there. The question is, do you really trust that you can? The voice knew there was nothing to doubt. I could run through the wall. I just needed to be told that I could. I needed to believe that the voice had more knowledge about the wall than I did. The voice was right. Oh yeah, the guy in the movie runs through "the wall" and wins his girl's heart. See? Run through the wall.

The River

Couples fight. If you are half of a couple, chances are you know this already. This is no groundbreaking observation. To the Newlyweds, my cherished recently paired, it is not an 'if' but a when. There will be a rip-roaring fight in your house and more than one. It doesn't mean your relationship is over. Once the dust settles following some verbal tornado that just plowed through your living room, you will realize that you learned something new about each other and you've likely grown stronger for it. Hold that thought.
I turn now to the couple who is, by most accounts, relatively happy. Life is good, as far as it goes, and things are floating along the current of time without rock or branch. WHAM! Something bumps you right out of your boat. Now, having plunged into the frigid, fast moving water, you surface to try and find your mate. In panic, once your eyes meet, you swim hurriedly to one another. Problem is, one of you is swimming upstream. The other trying not to float by and miss the opportunity to find the nice dry boat you were both in. Where is the solace of that boat? Can we ever get back in the boat? Will the boat be lost to the rocks ahead?
I am not talking about the hiccups of losing a job, although that can be pretty serious. My focus is on when one of the two gets sick, or gets devastating news about a close family member. My marriage encountered just that when my husband was diagnosed with Congestive Heart Failure. The name suggests exactly what it means. My 37 year old husband's heart was failing. We had all the Hallmark card moments you'd expect once we got over the initial shock of the news. We vowed to make the best of it, be grateful for every day, make lots of memories, not take anything for granted. We didn't know what our marriage had just been submerged in. We couldn't appreciate the emotional gravity of what it is like to find yourself with life as you know it together being put into a whirlpool and spun around like a fallen leaf onto top of the water. It wasn't as simple as a conscious decision to "make the best of it". The daily living, him accepting his illness and me having to get my mind around the idea that our relationship suddenly had a timeline was crushing. We were pounded against the rocks of life with every test, surgery and disappointing report from his doctor. Like it or not, this thing, this upending was weighing on us. It was on our minds and in our hearts everyday even if we wanted to pretend we were back in our little boat of 'Happy Couple and New Family of Three' we were still soaking wet. The every day tasks in life were becoming more and more daunting. For my husband, just getting up to face his day was a purposeful task, rather than an automatic response to the sun rising.
When your relationship sustains such a shipwreck, try as you might, there is always something in parentheses in your conversations. When this happens, it is the marker that underlines the most simple of annoyances between you. Forgetting to take the trash out, again, becomes an all out war over who does more around the house. It's the noticing the usual things that your other half does that irritate you that have you now pondering divorce. Take heart, your relationship is over. For us, we needed to acknowledge openly to each other that this situation was affecting us, individually and corporately. We had to become open with each other about our emotional frailties about his illness and honestly speak about what was baring down our minds. In order to avoid the rapids and not see our little boat be busted to ruins, we had to say "Hey. there is something coming. I am scared, I am not sure how I'll survive. I don't know if I can keep swimming. I am afraid you'll let go of me". We had to state the obvious. It was the only way. Avoiding what is and not talking about 'it' for the sake of the other will kill you. It will kill your relationship and rob you both of the life preserver you need. Each other.
Married life is not about pretending everything is okay. It's about being able to be open, honest and you, no matter what. This person is the only one who will ever know you better than anyone else. Your shipmate. For those who are directly effected by what has now come between you, be gentle. You are not alone. There is someone every bit as right there in it with you and they are in pain too. For the other half watching your partner suffer, know that depression and preoccupation comes with this trial. Give each other a break. Talk. Remember, love endures all things and keeps no account of wrongs.

What Thanks Do I Get?

This will not be one of those "what am I grateful for" Thanksgiving commentaries. I avoided this article specifically for the day after for that reason. I am grateful, certainly. I feel so gifted by God it is unbelievable. I have more than I asked for and more than I deserve. If you don't feel that way then nothing I write is going to change that so I spared myself the typing energy.

I wanted to focus the event of receiving thanks from someone. I wanted to spend some time on what it feels like to hear "thanks". Getting a "Thank You" can be a great experience. It can also be an emotional one. I guess it depends on what I am being thanked for that generates a given emotion. An unexpected acknowledgement of a job well done or a thoughtful gesture makes me smile sheepishly and makes me feel a little embarrassed as well. I used to spend time creating explanations for why I did what I did or dressing down a compliment because I didn't feel worthy of the nice comment. I felt awkward. I probably even felt like I was being humble in countering with a reason why there was no need for attention. One day, my grandmother had heard me do this one too many times. In response to watching my behavior when receiving a compliment she curtly exclaimed "just say 'Thank You', Brittany". Then I really was embarrassed and for the right reasons. No one wants to hear why you don't think what they should have complimented you or thanked your for something. Dumbing down what they considered worth mentioning is like telling them they are wrong. I didn't realize that until my grandmother pointed that out. Thanks, Betty!

I have also had my moments where I expected a "Thank You" and didn't get it. I used to stew in those moments. Aren't they just ungrateful? I would also label the offenders as selfish or entitled. I happened to mention this to a friend one day. This man is a very wise presence in my life. I actually call him 'Yoda' for that reason. He isn't afraid to point out where I am misguided. He listened to me and asked me what my motive was for doing what ever it was that I did that I thought should have elicited some praise. What was my motive? Well, I wanted to either do something nice, or I thought I should have done something out of charity or duty. After waiting for my reply he retorted. "If you did what you did for purely selfish reasons then why do you feel bad about not getting something in return"? Ouch! That stung but he was right. Why did I think I deserved something in return if I thought I should be doing what I was doing? If I knew ahead of time that I would not get what I perceived to be the proper response, would I have withheld action? No, of course not. I had no reason to go away sore for not getting my just desserts if I wanted to do what needed doing. I then set out doing matters of charity anonymously on purpose. I did things in such a way that would ensure I couldn't be thanked. You know what? It was very freeing. It became a game. What good could I do for others without their knowing? The first time I heard someone tell me the wonderful or helpful thing someone did for them and how much they appreciated it without them knowing I was the giver was elating. That is the trick, to feel the gratitude without blurting out "it was me"! That way, it stays selfless. Give it a try, you'll see what I mean.

I have had the awesome experience of doing something completely unimaginable in terms of helping a wonderful family with a pain in their lives that they could not solve alone. I was able to help fulfill an answer to prayer. There is no way I can describe what it feels like to have someone tearfully say "Thank You" when you know those two words couldn't possibly cover the emotions behind it. I was speechless to say "You're welcome" because that didn't even come close to an appropriate response. In this case, I'd like to think our souls just do the talking for us when language can't cover it. I pray that one time in your life, you'll be able to have that experience. It is a definite game changer in how you will go on about your living after that. I promise. Want to know what it was? Forget it, I'm not saying.

What of giving thanks? Well, I thank everyone who helps me. It cultivates the feeling of gratitude in my heart. The cashier, the mailman, the person who opens the door for me as an act of courtesy, the person who let's me into the lane I should have been in when I am late to the trigger in figuring that out. I thank everyone I can. I look them in the face, smile and say it. I want my daughter to see me doing it. I want others to see me doing it and to see the response the hearer has. I think thanking is contagious just like hiccups and smiling. I thank everyone who reads my work. I cry when I get heartfelt emails saying they can relate and telling me how much they enjoy my writing. Whether or not you realize, I keep doing what I do because of you. If not for the "thanks" I might have gone back to being in Business. You never know who you'll impact or how just by two simple words that take no effort at all.

Anchors Away!

I have a lot to say about Encouragers and the wonderful affects they have on the lives of the people around them. I do spend a lot of time with my friends and family that cheer me on. Who shouldn't? They make you feel great and better for knowing them. As a matter of record, I seem to distance myself from those that don't leave me wanting more of their presence.
I had a reader ask me about their counterparts. These are the people that seem to leave us drained and tired. What do I have to say about them? Have I had any experience with them? Sure I have! I call them Anchors.

Anchors, bless their hearts, are a different entity. We all have them around us. Sometimes they are family members, sometimes coworkers. Many of us have at least one friend who is an Anchor. We love them. What we don't love is the barrier they put between themselves and others. You can't see this barrier but you sure can feel it. I know I often get a low level headache as soon as they start bellyaching. These are the ones that seem to always have a problem, a situation, or anything that requires a lot of time for you to listen. Sure, I've given it my best shot to try to help. I have listened intently, taking in the details. I have done this because I instinctively want to encourage or to offer a solution or perhaps something I have done in a similar situation that had yielded positive results. Take it from me, they don't want to hear it. I've tried too many times and left feeling depleted of energy.

So what is with Anchors anyway? Do they know they have this skill? They don't. I call them Anchors because they weigh us down. You don't feel lighter and happier for having time spent with them. They themselves are heavier from their burdens. Whether these are real or imaginary, big or little issues is irrelevant. They need to share them. They want to take the weight off by having you listen. Who could blame them? If you feel as bad as you do at the end of another session with an Anchor, you can imagine how they feel living with it every day. Anchors don't see solutions. Why that is I just don't know. You'd thing they'd want help with all the reaching out that they do. Try as you might, an Anchor is likely to come back at your loving guidance with a reason why your solution or suggestion doesn't work. I stopped trying.

What does an Anchor want? Mostly, they just want a listener. If you can, just indulge them. I let them go on, offer an ear and tell them I don't have an answer to their problem. This takes the load off of me to be the hero, the savior with the answers. They get to drop the off their cares and my lack of offering anything lets me off the hook not to pick them up.

Don't get me wrong, sometimes we all need a shoulder to cry on and we have friends who are willing to let us. They let us whine, cry and offer us tissues. We feel better and they get to share in our pain. There is nothing wrong with that. What else is a friend for? I am talking about the one who is always asking us to be there, who never has anything positive to say. They are the ones who when you need a caring ear will almost immediately change the subject to their own problems. They have almost a talent for it. No one wants to be "one upped" on their life's pains. They don't get it. It's okay. They aren't going to either. Pointing out to an Anchor that they are an Anchor is a friendship ending conversation. You have to decide on whether or not you want that to happen before you take a position like that.

Anchors need love too but how much of your time and attention you want to spend on them is up to you. I do find myself spending less time with them than others. I can withstand chronic complaining for only so long. When I feel my patience wearing thin, I take a break from them. That way I can still be there and not do any damage for having overdone it with an Anchor.
Handle an Anchor carefully. They are that way for a reason. They have a lot of emotional baggage. You aren't going to fix that. Find a place of sympathy in your heart for them. They are sick people, they just don't know it. If you carry an Anchor too long without putting them don't you are likely to drop them and usually right on your foot.

Dispelling the Demons

I consider myself a relatively confident person. Sure, I had my insecurities in teenage years and early adulthood but I thought I was well passed that stage until recently. The last year and a half have been trying for me. Major life changes have left me a bit weary and pondering the future. I weathered them well or better than I expected and I am grateful to say that. However, there were scars and I have recently acknowledged them.

This period of time has definitely had its positives. I was isolated enough from friends and family so I could get my head around my past and what I would like my future to look like. Much time was given to prayer and contemplation, even dreaming of the next chapter in life. There was also a lot of mourning and tears. Truth be told, I suppose I had a few too many counseling sessions with Dr. Haagen Daz. In short, I gained a bit of weight. In fact, I needed to lose a good fifteen pounds before I gained this weight so the effects have been a bit disappointing to look at in the mirror.

I have taken some positive steps. I have a diet plan that I have been following well and I joined a gym and have been faithful to go and follow a workout schedule. The momentum is there and so is the motivation. Still, especially when I am in the gym with lots of full-length mirrors, I catch glimpses of my new body and I don't like what I see. I don't like it at all. It is tough to not look too long. When I find myself lingering in the mirror I turn away and go on to something else but there are demons. Demons are those little voices that discourage you. At times mine spend a lot of time talking to me. It all depends on if I want to listen or not as I have come to understand. It seems when I give ear to my demons, even just a little, they decide to pull up a chair next to my mind's ear and go on talking even when I don't want to. Or do I?

I have long said that we have to invite negative thoughts to participate in our lives. We have to listen in order to hear those voices that say "It's not that you've failed, it's that you are a failure". Intellectually I can tell myself that isn't true but when I invite the demons to go on with their reasoning for why I am a failure they are all to happy to give examples. They even bring up other failures, even if they are not related, to back up their story.

I don't want to listen any more. I have had a taste of what it was like to be a teenager again and rate myself according to my inner voice and I am firing my demons. They don't own me. They don't tell me the truth. They want me to be sad and give up. Then they win. When I feel this way, I talk to those who build me up and encourage me. They tell me to go on when the demons want to beat me up. They tell me I am great when the demons tell me I am a fraud. I know who my encouragers are. I keep mental note of those that seem to make me feel good just by a word, or a chat over coffee. Most of my encouragers openly share that they pray for me. They make it a point to check in with me either by phone or email and just see how I am doing. With encouragers in my life, I can move on quickly. Thankfully, there is another inner voice that reminds me of what my encouragers say when the demons want to speak to me more often than not. I am so glad that I have learned that. It took training. It took a conscious effort to do but I learned to do it purposefully and regularly until it was automatic. Sometimes my training needs a refresher. I really don't like being my own "Debby Downer".

Do you have encouragers in your life? Who are they? Make a list, check it twice. Even better to be an encourager. It makes you feel terrific. I make a habit of smiling at others, asking how a cashier's day is going in the grocery store or telling toll booth operators to "have a nice day". Think of it, trying to cheerful will actually make you cheery. I love that. It takes more muscles to frown than smiling and frowning too long will give you a headache.

Integrity. Honesty. Discipline. Kindness. Bravery. They are some of the components that make up character. I don't hear a lot about character but I have spent some time thinking about it recently. Character isn't really something that is said about someone so much as it is an observance that is often described in pieces rather than the whole.

We can exhibit aspects of good character even emulate them if they are not actually part of our inherit being in some situations. A person who is not necessarily giving can sporadically donate a lot of time or money to a certain cause that seems to spark their interest and ignore or reject other requests for the same without hesitation or explanation. A fearful person can overcome their anxieties if prompted to do so by a set of circumstances.

These examples can be mistakenly used by observers to measure character only to disappoint when the person of whom they so highly regarded before has fallen short of the lofty expectations that were slapped on them like a label for one given shining moment in their life. It happens all the time. It has even happened to me. I've often done it to myself. I have given into the hype of what others have to say and become remarkably ashamed when I don't feel like I am living up to the pedestal I have been put on. I cringe when others tell me that I am their 'inspiration' or they admire me so much for all I have done. I sit silently in the wake of their smiling glow and ponder, would they say the same thing if they knew about all the things I have done unbeknownst to them?

"Character is what you do when no one is looking". I think that is mostly true, or it tends to be, but I think from my own observances and study of people historically regarded as having great character that it is more of an engrained pattern of behavior. Character is built, not something you are born with. Character comes from, I believe many failings, hardships and the person's abilities to learn from those things. I have done some pretty stupid things when I thought no one would find out about it. Funny thing is, people usually do find out about it and then of course you know the rest of that story. I wouldn't have said and still don't that those individual situations were the result of my character. They were bad decision making based on a specific chain of events. If you didn't know me, you would naturally make an assumption that the scenario and the cascading results were exactly who I was. That is not true but try and prove it in court. Get it?

Israel's King David from biblical history tells us that he was "a man after God's own heart". That is some title! King David did some really wonderful things and he overcame mighty opposition even within his own family. If you were to not really know anything else about him, you'd think he had to be something close to perfect given the incredible sentiment he is known for. King David also did some really lousy things to people very close to him. For one, he slept with the wife of a close associate of his. When he learned that she was now pregnant he arranged for her husband's execution and involved others in this mission. He was successful in what he set out to do. He did a great disservice to his country, his family and his God with this decision. Was this the true nature of his character? Not at all. Thankfully, this travesty doesn't immediately come to mind when most think of him. He was lucky.

Tiger Woods is an unfortunate example. When news broke of his first affair I thought to myself, "okay, he screwed up. Let's not throw the baby out with the bath water". After about a dozen women also came forward my thinking changed to "he is a lying cheat". It wasn't because of the one but the many. He had a pattern of behavior not one time of indiscretion. Now, this is what he is known for not his amazing golf playing and the brunt of many jokes. His character has been reduced to one of laughability. What a sad state.

When judging someone's character, one must be very careful. Judging is something none of us have any room or merit for since we all fall short of who we really are truly. I believe that most people are basically good at the core albeit incredibly selfish. We set out with the right intentions but may factors come into play in our lives that drive what the result is in the end, our nature.
What I've learned in all this is to take a person and their behavior for what it's worth and factor in my past experiences with them and decide if this is someone who possesses the character that I'd like to be associated with. For we are not only judged by our own character but that of our known crowd. To be totally blunt, if you don't like any of your friends you might want to evaluate who you really are while you are complaining about them. Water does seek its own level.

The good news is that people can change. They usually want to change when they have had a heartbreaking realization who they are and a great desire to be something else. I've had the privilege of witnessing hundreds of literal transformations of life. What a wonderful thing to witness!