This Humpty Dumpty does get up

Ambitions live on

If ever I needed to be reminded, I was chasing waterfalls when I should have, for now, stuck to the rivers and lakes that have grounded me after that prostate cancer diagnosis in June last year, I faced a brutal reality on Wednesday night.

Inadvertently, I found myself having completed more than 10,000 steps in the previous six days, not out of deliberate effort, but in the drudgery of everyday events. That realisation on Wednesday indicated I needed just over 5,000 steps to make it 7 days in a row, a feat I have not achieved in quite a long time.

Maybe, make it a charted and timed walk, which records pace, heart rate for intensity, cadence and some other interesting, though mundane data along with the time to recovery. I set out on a route I had not plied in over a year, thinking I would catch the breeze on my walk.

Brought to ground suddenly

I was barely over a kilometre into my walk and out of nowhere, I do not think I tripped, my legs and feet seemed to scatter below my frame, and my brain kindly suggested I was going down. I was soon tumbling down, breaking my fall with my left knee and hands that thankfully had leather gloves on.

There was some momentum in the fall, and I rolled into half the outer lane of a dual carriageway that was not well-lit. I was so fortunate that no cars were coming. I picked myself up, took a few strides and rested on a wall as I caught my breath.

Someone waiting at the bus stop opposite must have seen it because he called from across the road to enquire if I was alright. I could only lift my hand in a gesture towards him.

A fresh whitish knee

A few minutes later, the debate was ongoing in my head about whether to continue or return home, my knee seething with the rage of a graze, my determination was to continue, and so I did to complete 13,408 steps for the day.

When I eventually got to look at my knee, I had revealed almost a square inch of flesh, but not much of a bleed compared to how I did not stop bleeding after I went for blood tests on Tuesday, and my shirt was stained.

There is a lot that I want to do, but I am not where I think I am; certain limitations constrain me even as I defy natural laws to do more than my body seems equipped for currently. The recovery process, as I am gently told by both my body and advisors, will take a while, I need to be patient with myself and adjust my goals within the framework of mental and physical abilities.

I have continued to exceed the 10,000-step goal, while my knee is not healing as fast as I had hoped. Meanwhile, Brian suggests I apply a dash of methylated spirit, considering how he’ll bawl at the application of a denatured and non-alcoholic dressing. Two fingers to my eyes and pointing those fingers at him.

The parable of Henry VIII

The wives and knives

Catherine of Aragon feared for many things of her husband Henry VIII, a man of considerable charm and influence dogged by one particular issue of having an heir to continue his dynasty that he destroyed tradition, principle and religion to attempt to get his way.

It is an irony of history that the heir that succeeded him for just over 6 years, Edward VI, was born of his third wife, Jane Seymour who died soon after childbirth, Bloody Mary, Mary I, daughter of Catherine of Aragon who tried to restore the Catholic hegemony her father destroyed lasted less than 6 years before Anne Boleyn’s daughter who never married reigned for over 44 years as Elizabeth I. [Wikipedia: List of English monarchs]

Our vision is limited

From the perspective of history, it is almost unimaginable that Henry VIII changed the history of the United Kingdom for an heir that was gone in 6 years to then have his female offspring reign for over 50 years.

Futility in the machinations of man and the scandal it portends. You can only wonder how things might have been different if Henry VIII could have seen how the future would turn out. It can be said for bravery, intelligence, ability and regal nous, Elizabeth I was more a daughter of Anne Boleyn than of the insecurities of Henry VIII who after 6 wives and the murder of two, never really achieved the lasting aim of an heir with any longevity.

Mockery is history retold

An allegory lurks in that Catherine of Aragon might often time have feared that she might be killed by her husband who in many ways castigated, excoriated and dehumanised her, yet could not rid himself of her for the forces that secured her place as Queen and consort were more enduring than Henry VIII could find the normal channels to upend.

He had to arrogate to himself powers and dominions in establishing the Church of England, to secure himself the divorce or annulment he required to marry Anne Boleyn whose rapid rise was succeeded by a more precipitous fall at the axe of an executioner. She was hardly dead or mourned when Henry VIII married Jane Seymour. The prospects of a third wife can be quite limited in its historical value or context. History serves to mock the vulnerabilities of powerful men.

Love handles stories with ease

Let’s do love simply

I have ambition, much of it that I want to achieve, yet, even as the Fairy Tales lyrics of Anita Baker become part of my meditation as I walked the treadmill, it was another song playing on my mobile phone and so I was saddened with reality stepping into view. The lady who sang Lead Me Into Love and danced to the Rhythm of Love expecting marital bliss of a future she dreamt of the Men In My Life was sadly with the Wrong Man. [The links are YouTube videos of Anita Baker]

Still, dreams must not die in the story of another, for earlier I read on Twitter of a lavish wedding that presaged a rotten marriage within a year, then the turnaround with another that brought a beautiful marriage beyond an ordinary wedding, from which I got the inspiration for a tweet that spoke my heart and mind.

You know what @Brian07j, we are getting married, we don't need a lavish ceremony, though, if it happens, I am not against it.

What matters the most is our hearts, our love and the future we want to have together, our wedding is a moment, our marriage is a lifetime. I ♥️ U. pic.twitter.com/8wsEITqSnA

— Akin Akíntáyọ̀ 🏳️‍🌈 #European (@forakin) July 30, 2020

Easy as I go

Even so, my mind was beginning to play games with me, being alone in the gym, my hairs were beginning to stand on end for no reason at all. My racing heart knocking on the expected heart rate, I began to rationalise before overdrive made it unbearable and soon even with the incline, my heart rate was coming down.

Back to ambition, the mirror ahead was reflecting the majesty of my love handles looking for a stage to perform a slovenly catwalk, I know eventually it would be Sayonara to them, traipse on the treadmill for as long as you want we are on to goodbye eventually.

Rebecca-Louise was back on form today, I did much more than yesterday, and let’s not go into any more detail. Soon, my 50 minutes were up, a good workout, I am not training for the Olympics, I am just doing fine.

[]

On parental interference and sundry matters

Dealing with parents

I could imagine that many people after reading this would probably nod their heads in agreement on the issue of parental interference. I love my parents and when things are generally fine, which means knowing their boundaries and not interfering with my life, we have quite interesting and lovely conversations.

There are however areas of concern that I would hope that parents around the world gain some maturity on. I called my brother yesterday quite upset about a comment my father posted on my activities on Facebook. He had said, “The earliest you make a good change in your lifestyle the better, it is not too late. All the best.” From my perspective, this was utterly uncalled for, and as I have written many years before and frequently as in the links below, there was a clear notice to all concerned that they accept my choices or lose to their voices in my affairs.

Blog - Thought Picnic: Accept my choices or lose your voices

Blog - Thought Picnic: Vulnerability offering opportunity

Blog - A February of love

Children provoked to wrath

Parental advice is good at any time, the kind of advice that helps you, builds you, encourages you and gives you the confidence to face the world. There was a time when as a child parental advice was an order, your agency was within the ambit of the latitude granted by your guardians. When that child becomes an adult, the parent needs to begin to adapt to new realities, the advice should come in that context, readily when asked for and tactfully when completely unsolicited for then offered like a reprimand.

In my last long conversation with my mother, who I lovingly call Iya, she offered the scripture about children honouring their parents, for it is commandment given with a promise. We were engaged in some banter as I had reported an issue, I was annoyed about to her about my father. I retorted that further down, it does say the parents should not provoke their children unto wrath.

We all have responsibilities, parents do as much as children do. If you as the hubristic almighty parent think there are no limits to how you interact with your grown-up child who is living quite independently of you in literally every sphere of their lives, then you are on the way to provoking your child unto wrath, the result of which cannot be healthy for either party.

No such ambition

The other thing is, I am very proud of my parents’ achievements in their lives, coming from their backgrounds, their professional successes and how those gave us their children amazing opportunities in life. I am probably the greatest beneficiary of it. I would be the first to confess that at some time I was a difficult child, I had my issues, and for some time, I probably was not a great source of pride to them.

Then, in resolving my own issues, I grew out of just wanting to make anyone proud as an ambition, if anyone was to feel a sense of pride in my regard, it would be incidental, not as a goal of mine. There might be a disconnection between them knowing that fact and realising I am not in a hamster’s wheel of life, trying to please anyone. I probably should have written a memorandum to all concerned.

My parents do not have that much influence in my life, not for a long time of at least three decades. Maybe in their mind’s eye and so in that of many other parents, they still see a child, we are always going to be the children of our parents, but we all grow up and that child is no more a child, but an adult. Many parents are in for a rude shock because they sometimes must be jolted violently into that new reality.

I make the decisions now

My situation is made worse for the fact that my father as a patriarch still has fully grown adults around him who have failed to gain any independence for themselves and thereby unfortunately becloud his view of things and the ability to discriminate between people who still need to be ordered around and those who at the very least should command both his courtesy and his respect in his dealings with them.

We are presented with many teachable moments which may not be immediate learning experiences but have to be reinforced time and again. I would never be a model child because my experiences and worldview are completely different from those of my parents. I try to be a good respectful child, but there are limits to what I can do. Whatever they have to say or do, the final decision would always be mine and mine alone to take.

This is a rebuke

When I have had to push back, I have not minced my words, that is the quality of education and influences around me, whilst I am reverential and respectful, when lines are crossed, order must be restored. In response to his comment, I wrote. “I do not expect to be reading these kinds of messages from you, I am 53, if you can't accept my choices, I appreciate your situation, but please, respect me for who I am. Thank you.”

Then, I blocked him on Facebook for the simple fact that, if he does not approve of my ‘lifestyle’ and that so-called lifestyle is published without reserve on Facebook, it is not helpful for him to be assaulted with it. I was only being kind.

I have however learnt that there are busybody informers on Facebook who have taken on the job of reporting my views and opinions on social media to my father from which he makes background inquiries to ascertain things without consulting me. The poor man is caught between societal encumbrances to be seen to act on the information he has received even after knowing there is little he can do than piss me off.

Well, I would hope those informants would get to read this and inform him that this is both a rebuke to him and them. Back off or this is just the beginning of some interesting storytelling. Thank you.

Decade Blogs - Akin Oyebode - How Will You Measure Your Life?

Decade Blogs

Akin Oyebode, I met on Twitter along with a number of young professionals who have become my friends, they have a vision, a purpose, and a mission, apart from much that I have learnt of what they want for Nigeria.

However, I have a more personal story, someone had successfully conned my mother in Nigeria into thinking I was in trouble, having inveigled his way into her confidence and blinded her reasoning by tugging at a mother’s emotional concerns, he made off with some money paid into a bank account he provided for his scheme.

When I got the information, I wrote a blog and lamented my plight on Twitter, there is where Akin got involved, he assigned a bank officer to the case and with that an investigation started which unveiled additional bank accounts of the conman at other banks, and the heat was on.

He had to go to ground having hastily vacated his home realising he had bitten off more than he can chew. The bank was very helpful, I was regularly updated and informed of progress, and though we did not get the man, the con channels we had discovered were closed.

Blog - Johnson Ademola Babatunde - I'm on your case

Blog - Nigeria: Giving your relations a heads-up on scammers

Akin Oyebode immediately responded to my request to write for my #YourBlogOnMyBlog Series commemorating my Decade of Blogging. Thank you.

Blog - To Celebrate My Decade of Blogging

He runs a blog at http://proudlyekiti.wordpress.com/ and goes by the Twitter handle @AO1379. Talking of life observed, dreams that change, lively ambitions and leaving a mark, this is one blog to inspire and cause you to reflect deeply. Enjoy.

How Will You Measure Your Life?

Life, while rewarding in fits and starts, is hard and temporary. That is what I learnt from reading Clayton Christensen’s book, whose title I have so shamelessly stolen. As a kid, strange things kept me up at night. I watched my parents sign the report card or a letter and wondered if I could ever get to sign my name the same way more than once.

Later, I sat in the back of my mother’s car, copying her driving skills; the head rest was my steering wheel, the window winder, my gear box. I always wondered how it what it felt like to drive a car. A few years later, I admired my neighbour as he drove us to work, one hand on the steering wheel, the other on his cigarette; it made me wonder how cool it must be to smoke.

As I got older, the dream changed. I learnt how to sign my name and drive a car. As for smoking, I spent a decade actively pursuing that dream till one of my closest friends died of Pericarditis. For one who is an insufferable hypochondriac, I don’t know how I spent a decade puffing on Benson & Hedges like my life depended on it; oh well. My early teenage years were spent dreaming about things like kissing a girl in the Introductory Technology laboratory and playing for the school football team. I’ll spare you the details, but those dreams became reality and I quickly needed new ones.

I rolled into university, where my dreams became buying a car (driving one wasn’t a big deal anymore), working for a bank (specifically the one with a nice building close to the embassies) and getting married. I never thought a woman would be gullible enough to spend the rest of her life with me. An hour or two, yes; but an entire lifetime, why would she? I played through university, spending a lot of the time partying and learning how to drink lots of Guinness and cognac, but thankfully I managed to emerge with a degree.

I’ve spent the last decade in a suit and tie, in banking; and the last four have been spent in the building I always dreamed about. As for buying a car, there’s always vehicle finance to thank for that one. Not only did a woman agree to spend her life with me, she also threw a wonderful son into the deal.

Now, it’s time to dream about managing (and owning) a bank, or governing my people in Ekiti. My bucket list has also changed, riding a bicycle has been replaced with the driving the Ferrari F12 Berlinetta on the Autobahn, and watching Manchester United lift the champions league has been replaced by a wish to take my son to his first game at Old Trafford.

Life is a collection of moving goalposts, and the frenzied nature of today’s world means the journey is often ignored for the destination. There will always be new targets; it starts with making the Forbes list of wealthiest people, or winning a Grammy. If you are as lucky as my idol, the white haired wordsmith, you might even get on the stage in Oslo, seen by most as the pinnacle of literary achievement. Otherwise, it could be a goal to replace Steve Jobs as the icon of innovation, or to go a step further than Sergey Brin, Larry Page or Mark Zuckerberg did with the behemoths they created. For some, it’s simply the chance to live for another day.

In the last two years, my goals have changed. The banking and political ambitions are still in place; my racing urges still need to be fulfilled; and taking my son to watch Manchester United remains very important. However, after seeing both spectrums of life and death, my main goal is to build beautiful memories; day by day, year by year, and hopefully, decade by decade. Seven months ago, I watched joyfully as my son came into the world; two months ago, I watched helplessly as my friend and colleague left it. It was a reminder of how the world is in continuous regeneration.

I do recommend you read Clayton Christensen’s How Will You Measure Your Life? It is a simple and meaningful attempt to remind the reader about life’s biggest treasures. I chose to write about it, because I remembered my first meeting with Akin Akintayo. It was in a crowded coffee shop at King’s Cross, and I learned his story first hand, as he described his successful battle against Cancer.

I spoke with a man who knew life handed him a second chance, one he planned to use his own way. A few days later, he was kind enough to join some of us at Emukay, Tunji Oyelana’s spot for food and drinks. It was one of my favourite nights; Guinness, good food and entertaining tales of old and new Nigeria. For contributing to my scrapbook of memorable moments, this is my way of saying thank you.

How Will You Measure YourLife? Clay Christensen at TEDxBoston – YouTube

Putting Obama dreams into perspective

Trail-blazers are not templates

If I see another inane blog that tries to ride the Obama success wave into passing the need to achieve to the next generation, I would most probably become violently sick.

Senator Obama in his achievement is a trail-blazer that reveals just another opportunity to achievement, he is not the way or the path to success – in fact, his path to success was so unlikely, there were unbelievers up till the very moment that victory was declared.

Why not you?

I find it mischievous and silly that suddenly most parents who have written about their child being able to reach the heights that Senator Obama has reached are probably much younger than Senator Obama who is 47.

If I recall, Senator McCain at 72, was about to become the oldest ever first term president, so it goes without saying that those parents might well aspire to high office rather than already conceding to a defeatist complex and immediately passing the mantle of high ambition to their children.

Now, if those parents really do see their kids aspiring to the highest office, I hope they are already breaking their backs giving their kids the best education in the best development environment, having them mix with leaders and commoners alike and charting a clear course to this high office since they can now see the future – unlikely.

So, who came after?

We dream but rarely walk or run towards that dream, we are full of fantasies and hopes which are fine for determining a course but never really engage on that course, rather we hope that we would be translated to the new place by miracles, accidents, luck or chance.

What am I saying here? There are many English mothers who would have dreamt when Margaret Thatcher became the Prime Minister of Great Britain in 1979, their daughters could become great leaders too, but 29 years on, there is no woman in the horizon going for that post.

Role models are just stars

Imagine how many pathways we would all be looking down if for every first and highest achiever we decided our kids would one day become one and every of those achievements.

A good example is in the week that Senator Obama became the first African-American President-elect, Lewis Hamilton became the first black F1 champion – I should think parents would now enrol their kids in presidency and F1 School?

I do not think so, people like Tiger Woods, Venus & Serena Williams, Colin Powell, Condoleezza Rice, Nelson Mandela and many more who are high achievers and first amongst equals are role models, but being a role model does not mean that they are ready for cloning – they are not templates for success, they are revelations of possibilities.

When Tiger Woods won, I would not have been surprised that some parents might have booked golf lessons for their kids without knowing if a birdie or a bogey was a bird, a score or a joke.

They are stars, they allow us to look up, see an array of lights in the sky, point to significant situations and aspire. They are not dies through which we can force our kids so that the resulting mould is a clone of the role model.

The open doors is usually far off

These possibilities only become realities to individuals who capture a vision of what the successes of their role models mean and find a way to work harder and excel at whatever they do.

These trail-blazers might open doors, smash glass ceilings, bring down hurdles and reveal what is possible, but they usually do not have hordes riding right behind them through the openings they have created – we can all aspire to be president, we would not all become president.

The danger is not getting sucked into a do-or-die ambition where the quest for great achievement takes away our humanity and turns us into cold and calculating malevolents.

We can and dream and should dream, we can ride the waves of the successes of those who have gone before us, but one man’s great success does not suddenly confer that victory and status to every child who witnesses that day.

At most, it reveals what is possible, what happens in a lifetime might not get us to the gates we have aspired to pass through, the ability to re-evaluate and reconsider our situations in relation to where we are should lead us to become the best we can become – nothing is impossible, but do we know what is possible and what we can make possible for ourselves?

Hurdles always topple over

Running for fun

I have never been that athletic but I do remember that in my early teens I used to do long distance running just for the fun of it but never in competition.

I did try out hurdles and much as the hurdles look daunting from the starting line, they are set up to topple down forwards when hit by a hurdling error of the runner.

Hobbling over hurdles

Basically, a hurdle is not fixed to the ground as some insurmountable obstacle, whilst the best technique would glide over the hurdle without touching it, the runner would surely find out that they are only slightly slowed down if the hurdle is hit but the hurdle usually would not stop the runner in their tracks.

Even so, life is full of hurdles, but there are many who see those hurdles as big high impregnable walls of Jericho that they are overwhelmed and already defeated before they find out that it is hurdle and not a solid wall.

The big money wall

I was chatting to a young ambitious man this evening that was trying to enter business school but had been slapped with a EUR 12,000 fee as a guarantee that he would pursue the study rather than embark on other activities.

It is unfortunate, that some of those before had abused the foreign student programme by obtaining visas for study and then going into full employment – new laws have been promulgated to avoid such abuse.

Looking at the situation, I averred that it was a hurdle rather than an insurmountable obstacle, I opined that it was quite unlikely that a foreign student had deposited EUR 12,000 in the college’s bank account because that would be a greater incentive to work and probably engage in nefarious money making schemes.

A surety of confidence

My view was that the EUR 12,000 was the monetary value of a surety that guarantees that the person would make study their primary purpose whilst availing themselves of the maximum 20 hour a week working time.

This meant, if the person were able to produce a surety; a respectable member of society who knew the student, exercised a modicum of control over the student’s activities with some sort of monitoring agreement and had confidence in the student’s abilities, the fee can be waived on that recognisance.

Surety of conviction

A foreigner might not be able to produce such a surety on short notice without developing a trusting and working relationship, however, if the student in persistence and determination is able to convince a lecturer or some academic of their potential, commitment and ambition a surety might arise to allow a waiver.

The student creates a conviction that persuades the academic to provide the support to obtain access and gain a waiver of sorts.

In other words, the fee would always be an obstacle to those who do not exert themselves beyond that first refusal; it is however, just a hurdle to those who realise that the purpose of the fee and think round the issue.

I cannot say I convinced the young man of my views, but at least I gave him a perspective that made little of what once looked impossible and unattainable.

I have seen many examples of people who refused to be deterred by the big money requirement and ended up realising their dream without suffering that financial outlay – what looks like a wall, might well be a curtain, hurdles are not fixed to the ground, and they topple over when knocked, hit or just tripped over by a runner, but if you were just walking by, you'll never really find out that truth.