I Find Myself at a Crossroads

Who am I?

Such a simple question, so difficult to answer.

What do I like to do? How do I want to live? What am I good at? What am I not good at? What does my mind and heart tell me? What do proven results in life tell me? What is my role in the world? Where do I fit? Where don’t I?

One would think the older I get, the better I could answer all these questions. And I have gotten better. But then as I age the answers to these questions might change. In fact, they do change. But how exactly? And when? I have heard experts talk at length about “change management,” and that is an important concept for everyone. How do things stay the same for an individual or a community over time? How do they change? And how much? Why? What is the best way to move forward? What is not?

I suspect many (most?) people now and in the past simply operate on autopilot, more or less. They mostly live the same as they always have. They live like their parents did, and like their ancestors before that. They live a traditional lifestyle which was laid out for them. And because of poverty or whatever they live a simple life without many options from which to choose. They live like their parents and their grandparents and so on time out of mind.

But everyone has choices, to one degree or another. And not to choose is to have made a choice by default. You can act rashly and intemperately – unwisely. Or you can be too slow to take action and therefore languish in situations which harm you – unwisely. Alas.

It is hard to know. For me this is what helps: I have to sit quietly with my thoughts, and consult with my mind and my heart on an issue. What do I need? Is this situation working for me? Or not? Why? What is important to me? What is not? Who am I? What makes me happy? What does not?

Over time the answers become clear, or semi-clear. Then I can take action. I will make a change in my job. I might switch hobbies. I will engage – or re-engage – with friends. Or not. I will change where I live. Or not.

It is not easy. Choosing the best path forward is never easy. The way forward is muddled, and nothing is for sure. The future remains uncertain; it always will be. “We see through a glass, darkly.” We stumble through the confusions and contradictions of the present towards an unknown future. 

But here is the necessary precondition to making the best possible choice to manage change: sitting quietly and reflecting deeply. No technological distractions, no extraneous input; just a person communing with their soul. And here is the absolutely indispensable element: honesty. To be perfectly honest about your strengths and weaknesses, about what it is you value and don’t, what you want and don’t, what is working for you and what isn’t. You look inwardly and let yourself ruminate on these questions and over time answers will become clear. The process can be exhausting and painful, but there is no other way. This is the custom cover I use to protect my cell phone –

– so do you see what I mean, dear reader?

There are so many others who would tell you what should be important and how we should live. And to some degree we internalize those voices. But what is that we want? What is the truth?

Who am I?

How do I wish to live?

What is important to me?

Where do I fit in the world?

What am I good at?

What am I not?

One of the benefits of being a parent is that I have learned to appreciate the fact that my two daughters were born with a certain temperament that was hardwired into their DNA. They are who they are, and to a large extent they were born that way. A parent tries to change their child’s temperament at their own peril – and they risk damaging their child in the process. Your kids are who they are. And so are you.

You can move the needle a bit this way or that towards what you want for your child with thoughtful and intentional parenting, and hopefully parents do. But there is a limit. Appreciating the nature of your child will help them to seek to minimize their weaknesses and maximize their strengths, since our vices are inextricably interwoven with our virtues. But my daughters are who they are, not who my wife or I wish they would be. Putting parental ego to the side, we can try to understand our children and help them to understand themselves as they grow and mature. It is about them. It is their life, not our life. We try to teach them, not order them around. If our children ever want to amount to much, they need to have freedom and agency to choose.

Similarly, I urge my high school students to seek to find their “internal essence.” Who is it they want to be? What choices can they make in young adulthood to maximize their God-given potential and enjoy purposeful lives?

And it is not so different for older adults who approach retirement – like me.

What is the best way to live?

For many long years you have been a worker and a parent, Richard. Your choices were severely constrained. But a new era approaches. 

Last summer I spoke with a math teacher at my school who told me, “I’m never going to retire. I wouldn’t know what to do with myself without work!” I was horrified. It bespoke to his lack of imagination as to what the world had to offer outside of employment for money. He needs some new hobbies and passion projects outside of work, I thought. There is more to life than work, I reflected.

I have almost the opposite problem. I have so many interests I spread myself too thin. Or I get injured from going too hard too often. I have learned as I get older that there is value in saying, “No, I’m going to sit this weekend’s match out. I have a budding injury. I need to rest up and let it heal.” My instinct is the opposite. But so often this is the truth: less is more. Look at the long view: stay healthy in your body and avoid overuse injuries. Find that Goldilocks zone between “too much” and “not enough” exercise – Aristotle’s “Golden Mean.” It is never easy.

Last September I made this cursory sketch of the areas I wanted to focus on this year:

I love and embrace all those hobbies; I feed each with time, energy, and money. But the Tae Kwon Do has been perhaps a bridge too far. Can I do Korean martial arts – dynamic punches and kicks; sparring and sweating; joint-locks and throws – at my age AND remain a competitive tennis player? Is there enough time for that AND being an engaged family man AND a full-time employee?

This is what I think: my almost 56-year old body cannot tolerate serious martial arts AND high-level tennis. My body cannot endure it. I spread myself too thin. I will suffer both on the fighting mat and on the tennis court. I cannot fully engage both, and recently, I have not; there is not the time. And more importantly my body will break down. There will not be enough recovery time for muscles and joints. I will get injured. I will be limping around always. It will get worse. Something serious will go wrong; the repercussions will be severe. I want to avoid that. I really do.

So I need to choose one or the other.

I struggled long and hard with this dilemma. It was complicated. I had mixed feelings, and then mixed feelings about those mixed feelings. But I decided to choose tennis. I am more invested in it. My social circles are larger in tennis. I can do it longer in life. Tennis has more momentum in my life.

But this recognition saddens me. I love the martial arts and my roots in them run deep, too. Years and years of my life. I have internalized so many of its lessons.

But I do not have to give them up entirely, I think to myself.

There can be some engagement short of paying to attend classes several times a week.

And maybe later as my life changes I can find some entry again. 

And so many of the spiritual aspects associated with the martial arts which are so important to me will remain, as long as I remember and honor them. A good lesson well learned is never forgotten. Martial arts will always be in my life, albeit at a reduced level.

But for now I need to cut it out. It is not working. My body hurts; my joints ache. My tennis game is suffering. I am not “match tough.” The martial arts stress my body in places where high-level competitive tennis makes them even worse. And I do not have the time for the usual off-court tennis workouts which serve as a prophylactic against injury on the court. I am a big believer in pre-habilitation of your body, so as to avoid rehabilitation after injury. This lifestyle was sustainable for me. It has left me strong and healthy. Studying Tae Kwon Do and Hap Ki Do in my mid-50s, along with tennis, has been the opposite. It is breaking me down. 

So time to let it go.

There is what you think would be good and valuable. Then there is what really is. Sometimes your plans do not work out. Your dreams must adapt to reality.

Here is my reality: I am too old to do martial arts and competitive tennis at the same time. My body cannot handle it. I understand this now.

This thought makes me sad. I feel old and weak. And I will feel disconsolate when I inform my instructor who I greatly respect that I am leaving. Deep down in my gut I fear his look of disappointment when I tell him. But I have to choose.

Often doing less is more.

I have to make choices.

Who am I?

How do I manage change?

What choices must I make?

How can I remain honest to myself? To who I am deep down?

What is my “internal essence”?

What compromises will I make to fit into the world and with others?

What compromises won’t I make?

These are not easy questions.

Because there are no easy answers.

There are no “quick fixes.”

There are only benefits paid for by costs.

Nothing is for free.

You have to pay for everything.

And sometimes if you want something dearly, you have to forgo something else you love a little less to have it.

You don’t get to have it all.

You must choose.

So I choose:

“Master Robert Adelman, I have enjoyed your lessons and your dojang. But for now I must say not ‘goodbye’ but only ‘until then…’”