Category: Essays

Sociological observations from a coffee shop

~ Jason Kanz ~ Leave a comment

Yesterday, I had coffee with one of my best friends, which is something we have done nearly every Sunday for several years and at this particular coffee shop for at least two years. Near the end of our time together, three women came and sat immediately next to us with one of them putting her stuff on our table. I shared the following on both Facebook and Threads, curious what other people thought.

Okay…I’m trying to process what happened at coffee this morning. A friend and I have coffee early every Sunday morning. We’ve gone to the same place almost every Sunday for probably two years. We sit in the exact same spot every week. The place is usually empty and quiet, which is partly why we like it. Occasionally, another person will come in and sit somewhere.

This morning, two women came in and sat at the table RIGHT NEXT to us. I could have reached out and touched one of them on the shoulder. This is similar to going into a large, empty men’s room and choosing one of several urinals and having another man come in and choose the one right next to you even though several others are available.

Then, a third woman came in and joined them at their table for two, sitting on the bench space between the tables and right next to me. She put her stuff on our table. This is like another man coming into the bathroom and standing in between the two men at the urinals and putting his hand on the shoulder of the man he doesn’t know.

Now…remember, the rest of the coffee shop was EMPTY. There were like 10,000 empty tables they could have chosen (okay, maybe 12), even tables that would accommodate three or more people where we would have had enough distance to not be listening to one another’s conversations. They talked and laughed loudly enough that it was distracting. (See diagram below).

Help me to understand. I looked for cameras, so I don’t think we were part of a Candid Camera style TV show. I know this sort of thing probably happens in Europe, but in the US, why would someone choose to sit within touching distance of other customers when there is a huge empty area that could have been used?

I don’t get it.

The responses have been nearly as fascinating to me as the original interaction. A day after posting it, there are over 100 comments on Facebook and nearly 200 on Threads and people continue to comment. As a psychologist, I remain curious about the behavior of these women, about my own behavior, and about the responses people offered. Let me suggest a few categories that stood out to me:

Thoughts about the behavior about the women–There was a wide range of hypotheses about why the women acted the way they did. They were described as potentially rude, clueless, crazy, extraverted, aggressive, friendly, potentially flirtatious/interested in one or both of us, or creatures of habit. Some pointed to the human social tendency toward grouping. Several people were curious as to whether there were environmental reasons for their choice, such as proximity to electrical outlets, windows, or the parking lot. A few people wondered about their ages and how that may have been a factor. One friend suggested they may have been priming us to tell us about their cult. Another raised the possibility that they were setting us up to shoplift or scan our phones. My wife believes they were doing their own psychological experiment.

It seemed that most people acknowledged that they also would have been bothered by their behavior. One explanation I read several times was that they may have been their normal place to sit, which is the idea that made the most sense to me, though honestly I may never know for certain.

Thoughts about my behavior–Several people wondered why we just sat there and didn’t move or did not confront the women. Several suggested that I was entitled to think of it as my space. One person called me graceless, telling me I violated the principles of love and peace. One woman on Threads basically basically told me to shut up and leave the women alone and then deleted her comment. Another suggested that my masculinity is fragile.

Honestly, I think I did nothing because the encounter was so outside of my norm I was flummoxed. I also admitted that I tend to be conflict avoidant and did not want to make a scene. It is definitely something to continue reflecting on, and to think about how I might respond in the future.

Thoughts about how to respond–There was such a huge variety about how to respond ranging from passive to aggressive. Some asked why it bothered me and to just sit there and celebrate being free. Many people suggested picking up and moving to another table, sometimes without comment, though others thought I definitely should have said something or maybe picked up their stuff and brought it with us to a different table. Some thought we should join their conversation. There were a surprising number of people, presumably jokingly, suggesting using rude words or behaviors to drive them away. Several people said “I would have done it this way,” and then proceeded to suggest a course of action (e.g., asking them why they sat so close).

I found myself wondering if the people offering these suggestions would actually do these things. I know that for me, it is often true that what I may think is the ideal behavior in a situation is not always what I actually choose to do.

There was also a small number of people who essentially said, “You are a psychologist, why are you asking us to comment on other peoples’ behavior?” I wrote to one person that I do not possess all knowledge about people and that I find conversation and dialog with others who view things differently to be beneficial.

“Me too” responses–The “me too” responses were some of my favorites. People shared (often humorous) examples of ways in which others have encroached on their space, whether at a coffee shop, in a movie theater, in a parking lot, on a beach, or at a comedy club. Two of my favorites include one woman who had an elderly couple doing naked yoga right next to her on an empty beach and another woman who was sitting with her spouse in an empty comedy club and being asked to move to a different spot by a couple who wanted their seats. People obviously related to what I wrote about.

There was a subset of these responses from women who pointed out that this sort of things happens to them frequently and that it was good to turn the tables. I could not agree more. I am appreciative of their words as well as the opportunity to reflect on what this must be like for many of them.

Comments about my assumptions about Europe–In the second to last paragraph, I made the off-handed comment that “this sort of thing probably happens in Europe.” Several people, especially on Threads challenged my statement, while others agreed with me. One of my favorite tongue-in-cheek responses came from a friend in Greece who commented, “I thought in the US, you just put your revolver on the table next to you, giving them a look and they get the message.”

What I recognized was that I homogenized an entire continent with vastly different people. It challenged me to ask how I arrived at my conclusion and recognizing that I formed a stereotype with incomplete information, which is typical of stereotypes we all hold. I am also aware that we all brought our own cultural biases into how we understood this situation. The challenge, for me at least, is to step outside of my conditioning in order to understand how others may see it.

Overall, I found it be a fascinating opportunity for self-reflection. Why was it so bothersome to me? Why did I not get up and move, or even ask them about their behavior? What assumptions do I have about “normal” behavior and how does my culture influence those assumptions? Where did my stereotypic assumptions about Europeans come from and why? Am I able to learn from others by hearing their stories and putting myself in their shoes?

what is love?

~ Jason Kanz ~ Leave a comment

If you follow me on social media, you know I revisit the concept of love regularly. Even at the top of this blog, my logo reads, “Love up, love down, love in, love out.” Love is the answer for most of what ails us individually, relationally, and societally. However, it is also true that I can be vocal about issues I am passionate about. Typically, conversations around these issues lead to fruitful dialog, but at other times, people can become upset.

A few times, friends have commented that, on the one hand, I proclaim a message of “love everybody,” but on the other hand, I can be critical, which they see as hypocritical or at least inconsistent with love. I awoke at 4:45 this morning thinking about this objection (doesn’t everyone wake up in the wee hours of the morning thinking about things like this?). Is it unloving to voice criticisms? I don’t think so.

Here’s the thing: Love does not imply tolerance of injustice. It doesn’t mean pretending that all viewpoints are equally acceptable. It doesn’t mean overlooking evil. That’s indifference, not love. In my opinion, if someone is using dehumanizing language, the most loving thing to do is to call it out. This week, there were pictures of Nazi protestors waving flags with swastikas a block from the Holocaust Museum. To act as though this racist worldview is equal to all others is not loving. Suppose a politician uses divisive language and name-calling to describe his political opponents. In that case, pretending that his behavior is acceptable is not loving. Indeed, it seems that the most responsible, loving behavior is to speak out on behalf of those who may not have a voice.

Because I do value love, I speak out. I certainly don’t do it perfectly; I have sometimes felt convicted about my tone and have apologized or corrected what I’ve said. I always try to operate from the assumption that I could be wrong, but knowing that I could be wrong doesn’t imply that all views are equally correct and valid. I still believe dialog is beneficial; unfortunately, I have sometimes asked to talk with people whose opinions differ, and they tell me it isn’t worth it. And so I will continue writing about the importance of love and speaking out about those things that seem contrary to it. The voice and actions of real love- not tolerance, avoidance, or equivocating- promise the greatest hope of healing. 

avoiding toxicity

~ Jason Kanz ~ Leave a comment

In places across the United States and Canada this summer, we received frequent air quality warnings because of the massive Canadian wildfires. On the bad days, the smoke was visible in the air. Lungs and eyes burned if we spent much time outside. Other days, the air looked better, but the warnings still came. Breathing the toxic air isn’t good for any of us, but those with compromised lungs were especially at risk.

Throughout my life, my relationship with food has been inconsistent. I meet diagnostic criteria for binge eating disorder, which means I have periods in which I feel out of control and will eat a much larger amount of unhealthy food than most people would in a similar time frame (6000+ calories in a day). When I am eating poorly, my body feels terrible, but when I consistently make healthier food choices, I feel much better. The toxicity of sugar has been a real thing for me and I function better–physically and mentally–if I avoid sweets altogether. Some people have no problem regulating their intake of sugar; I’m not one of them.

But toxicity can also affect our relationships. Some people fail to respect our boundaries. The way some people engage in sarcasm, name calling, and bitterness can cause our minds and bodies to react in unhealthy ways. Sometimes, we do not recognize these triggers, we just know we don’t feel right. And, to be clear, this is about more than simple difference of opinion; rather, it is the manner in which those opinions are carried and expressed.

I think it is good and healthy for us to engage with people who think and believe differently than we do. In disagreement, I’ve often utilized the 3 questions1: 1) What do you mean by that?, 2) How did you come to that conclusion?, and 3) Is it possible I’m wrong? I have learned a lot from others who have believed differently than I have, particularly when we both come with curiosity and humility.

However, we sometimes come to believe that we must associate with everyone who would have us as friends. Christians hear that Jesus met with lots of people with whom he disagreed, so we should do the same (he also told his disciples to be willing to shake the dust from their feet)2. We also hear that if we set boundaries in relationships that we may drive people away from Jesus, risking their eternal souls, so we should accept poor behavior with a smile. Last week, in counseling, I used the phrase “pathological niceness” to describe what seems to be an unhealthy way of relating–entirely ignoring ourselves while sacrificing our own needs to others. We disregard what our bodies tell us because we are supposed to be “nice.”

But here’s the thing: we cannot be friends with everyone, though we can be respectful. We can be close with only a handful of people. Like our food, like our air, it is wise to ask if our primary relational inputs are healthy or toxic. Are the people whose voices are the strongest nourishing us, both when they are encouraging us and when they are challenging us? Toxic relationships not only harm our self-image, but also impair our ability to relate with others in a healthy way. In contrast, beneficial relationships are life-giving and make us better.

  1. The first two questions come from Greg Koukl’s Tactics. ↩︎
  2. Matthew 10:14 ↩︎

Why I sometimes criticize the church

~ Jason Kanz ~ 2 Comments

I was pondering my personal church history this morning. In my 50 years, I’ve lived in four states and seven different communities. In that time, I considered myself a “member” of seven congregations and have been more peripherally involved with others. These churches have been Reformed, Presbyterian, Baptist, Lutheran, Quaker, non-denominational, and evangelical. Most of these congregations appeared to be relatively healthy when I attended. Every community has issues, and churches are no exception. Still, during my time in these spaces, I have loved the people and the pastors with whom I was privileged to worship. I may now differ from many in theological or social conviction, but I still consider several of them my friends.

In contrast, one congregation–one denomination–I was involved with was unhealthy at the root and engaged in many harmful practices. While I was a part of it, I developed many unhealthy patterns, irreparably damaging some of my closest friendships. Even this church was not entirely bad. For all the good churches out there, there are bad ones too. Recent series like Shiny Happy People, The Secrets of Hillsong, and The Rise and Fall of Mars Hill highlight some of the more visible abuses, but there are far more that occur every day in America. 

I have been critical of several aspects of the American church in recent years. People who have known me over time wonder how someone for whom the church has been a central part of life for decades can now be critical, especially when my personal church experience has been generally positive. A metaphor may help. Imagine you discover that you have cancer in your left foot. On the one hand, you could say, “My right foot works just fine. It helps me walk. I can even kick a ball. And what about my hands? They are amazing! My hands let me build, comfort, and create. They do so many amazing things!” These statements would be factual. On the other hand, your left foot would still have cancer, and without adequately diagnosing and treating it, it will kill you. You say, “But the foot is only a small part of the body. Look at the good the rest of the body does.” All I can say in response is, “The cancer is killing you.”

Reformers have appeared repeatedly throughout the history of Christianity. During his earthly ministry, Jesus showed what love and grace looked like, but he also confronted toxic religious beliefs. Paul confronted Peter. For thousands of years, unpopular prophets have been vocal when religious people lose their way. The same is true today. Many of us deconstructors, ex-vangelicals, post-evangelicals, or spiritually uncertain people who have criticized elements of Christianity in recent years aren’t questioning and attacking the church because we hate Jesus but because what we see happening doesn’t look like Jesus. We see the repeated scandals, hypocrisy, and power-seeking and think this isn’t what we thought the church was supposed to be. Our churches taught us that character matters and that love conquers all. Still, the repeated abuses make us question if our churches ever believed these things. In many cases, I suspect Jesus would agree.

So, for pastors and leaders who are doing the good and humble work of seeking to love widely and deeply, please keep it up. Thank you for being healthy hands and feet. But know this: the cancer isn’t going away by ignoring it and the church will always need those willing to say, “We are sick.”

Semper Reformanda.

viral observations

~ Jason Kanz ~ 2 Comments

On July 19, I tweeted:

I always heard that as people aged, they became more conservative. I’ve become much more liberal. Anyone else?

Inexplicably, the tweet went viral. As of this morning, it is approaching 53,000 likes and nearly 10,000 comments, and I am still getting notifications every few seconds. As a relative nobody on Twitter (before this tweet took off, I had around 750 followers), this attention was unexpected and a bit unnerving. I want to offer a few observations on the experience.

First, thousands of people agreed with me, and thousands didn’t, which was not surprising. Each person has their own experience and political trajectory. I was grateful for the number of people who wrote that their experience was similar to mine, and in truth, I was also grateful for people who simply said that they have indeed become more conservative. Many people also expressed that they do not know where they fit these days politically.

Second, I initially tried to keep up with the comments, but eventually, it became impossible to do so. I am certain I will never go back to read them all. It is a good reminder that when I comment on a thread from someone well-known, it makes sense that they do not respond. It is also true that when we throw our ideas out into the world, they can take on a life of their own.

Third, for all of the people expressing their opinions, it seemed there were an equal number of people who were more interested in name-calling, mischaracterization, offering false assumptions, and setting up straw men. Or perhaps their comments were just the “loudest.” This vitriol was launched in both directions. I was told by someone who has no idea who I am that what I shared about myself wasn’t actually true. I was told repeatedly that I have dementia, a brain injury, a mental illness, and that I’m gay. I was informed that I am not a Christian. These things were often shared by those professing to be Christians themselves. It breaks my heart that people feel so free to engage in hate-filled speech on social media.

Fourth, I knew that as a country, we were divided, but the comments solidified these observations. There appears to be a profound intolerance of those who think or believe differently with some people suggesting that those on the other side deserve death. There were blatantly racist comments.

Fifth, I was accused of posting the original tweet as an opportunity to sell my book, Letters to the Beloved. My immediate thought was, “Yes, I decided to write a viral tweet that has very little to do with my book just on the off chance that someone might buy it.” Truthfully, I never expected anything to happen with the tweet, so selling books was not even a consideration. However, I happily used my 15 minutes of fame to draw attention to a project I am proud of.

All in all, social media has its place, but it will never replace sitting around a table with real people having real conversations. Attacking people when you are looking them in the eyes is much more difficult. It leads me to wonder how I can connect with others on a local level in more significant ways.

wild and beautiful

~ Jason Kanz ~ Leave a comment

One of my neighbors has an immaculate lawn. His attention to it is constant and uncompromising. The groundskeepers at Augusta would be thrilled to have him on their staff. I look across the street in admiration. There is never a blade of grass out of place.

My lawn looks nothing like his, but I love mine no less. Over the past couple of years, I have been diversifying my yard, adding clover and wildflowers where I can. I would estimate that most of my lawn has at least some clover in it now, and some sections are almost entirely clover. The backyard needs work; I think that’s why my dogs keep digging holes, but we keep at it–adding flowers and trees here and there. Over time, the plants mingle. I find lilies of the valley crossing the border into the lawn. Dandelions stand proudly next to the fescue.

To be sure, some of the plants try to overwhelm, the others, and I uproot them or trim them back, but to my eyes, the diversity brings beauty.

and bees.

reflections on restore 2022-day 2

~ Jason Kanz ~ Leave a comment

Yesterday, I got home from Restore 2022 around noon and spent the rest of the day sitting on the couch. I could not do otherwise. I was physically exhausted and my soul was weary; Those two things often go hand in hand. For those who missed my reflections on day one, I attended Restore 2022, a conference dealing with spiritual trauma, with my friends Kelley and Mike. Much like the first day, I benefited from every talk. In fact, I have told several people that this is the only conference I remember where I not only attended every single talk (there were 11 of them) but I actually appreciated each and every one. On day 2, we heard from Lina Abujamra, Wade Mullen, Scot McKnight, Ruth Malhotra, Karen Swallow Prior, Lori Ann Thompson, and Diane Langberg. The day finished with communion. Although it was an emotional weekend, it was the hope of communion that brought me to tears.

A few quotes before moving on:

  • War leaves no victors–only victims.-Lina Albujamra
  • Each wrong must be rightly named.-Wade Mullen
  • I believe in the church, but I don’t believe in toxic church cultures.-Scot McKnight
  • All abuse causes a spiritual wound-Lori Ann Thompson
  • To push oneself into the life of another is a form of rape. Jesus does not do that.-Diane Langberg
  • Sometimes your greatest anger is not against those who perpetrated against you, but against those who did not protect you.-Mary DeMuth

Each of the speakers shared so much goodness (TOV), truth, and beauty, but sharing space with a couple hundred of the hurting and healing was equally a gift. I met Twitter friends. I heard peoples’ stories as they heard mine. I had a chance encounter where a woman stopped and said I looked familiar. Although it’s unlikely that she has ever seen me, we discovered that her college roommate was from my very small hometown.

Restore 2022 was beauty wrapped in beauty.

I think the exhaustion and weariness come from continuing to reckon with my own story. As I said in my day 1 reflection, it is no minor miracle that I went to a conference about spiritual trauma with Mike and Kelley, two dear friends whom I once maligned and misrepresented, and I am deeply grateful.

reflections on Restore 2022-day 1

~ Jason Kanz ~ 2 Comments

A few months ago, our friend Kelley asked Heather and me if we would like to attend Restore 2022, “a conference restoring faith in God and the church,” with her husband Mike and her. The panel of speakers–experts in trauma, hurt, and spiritual abuse–intrigued me. However, I was concerned that delving into spiritual trauma further might be like picking at a healing scab; it itches, but it may be best to leave it alone. The fact that they would invite me at all as one who had abused and mistreated them was no minor miracle and one for which I am deeply grateful. At the last minute, Heather could not come, but yesterday, Kelley, Mike, and I drove to Illinois with a lively discussion along the way.

Entering the conference space this morning in the chapel at Judson University stirred many emotions for me–excitement, fear, and sorrow, to name a few. Singing was difficult, but the speakers, and the community of the broken (DeMuth) around us, were just what I needed. I won’t summarize all the speakers, but a single quotation from each will give you a flavor:

  • “We are to be a place of refuge for the vulnerable, not a place for their exploitation.” -Diane Langberg
  • “You cannot control someone into recovery.” -Phillip Monroe
  • “Sunlight is the best disinfectant.” -Warren Cole Smith
  • “‘No’ is one of the most spiritual words we say.” -Paul Coughlin
  • “You don’t have the right to prescribe a journey of healing for someone.” -Mary DeMuth

As much as the speakers fed a spiritual hunger, I was equally grateful to connect with folks I knew only through Twitter, to share some of my story and hear them share some of theirs. Healing happens in a community, but communities are not always safe, so having space to communicate honestly is a gift.

I do not know what tomorrow will bring, but I am hopeful. For tonight, I am exhausted.

a gray numbness

~ Jason Kanz ~ 5 Comments

I’ve been living under gray skies, though I cannot remember for how long. Weeks? Months? Longer? My sense of time is distorted as days and weeks bleed together, a bland landscape laid out before me. My life lacks rhythm and every day feels the same. My alarm is set for 4:45, but I am often awake long before that. I lay in the dark, wondering if sleep will find me again, but knowing that it probably won’t. I spend time at my desk reading, journaling, and sometimes praying–if I can find the words. I shower only because I must. I still go to work every day and I am still good at my job. It’s been about four years since I missed work, but then it was because of unrelenting anxiety. I come home, praying that we do not have anything scheduled because I have to psych myself up even for those things I “enjoy.” I would rather watch re-runs of Derry Girls.

I have had a number of acquaintances reach out lately, wanting to connect. Although I am grateful for them, I am often exhausted by the thought. Responding, even by text, takes considerable effort and I put it off as long as I can, but I am too much of a people pleaser to ignore messages indefinitely. I have a small group of friends with whom I intentionally spend time and who have been good for my soul; any more feels overwhelming.

I am rarely sad. People who have never lived through a depressive episode often assume that depression is a really deep sadness; however, although sadness may be a cardinal feature of depression, it is not a required symptom. For many people like me, anhedonia–a loss of the ability to enjoy what was previously enjoyed–is the principal symptom. Although I still enjoy certain things, my general emotional tone is bland. I have often said that one of the first cues for my depression is a loss of interest in reading.

Depression can also include a variety of other symptoms–guilt, shame, worthlessness, self-criticism, concentration difficulties, thoughts of self-harm, changes in sleep (mine is decreased) and appetite (mine is increased), and a loss of sex drive, to name a few. You see, depression is not a unidimensional construct. Although there are commonalities, how I experience depression differs from how my friends experience it.

I am in the process of switching medications. Last week, Heather asked me, “Do you think it’s time to adjust your meds?” Unhesitatingly, I said, “Yes.” My sertraline isn’t cutting it anymore. I have also been re-listening to the audiobook, An Undivided Life, by Parker Palmer for the umpteenth time. Palmer is one of my favorite authors and his ability to talk about depression from the inside is a welcome friend. On Sunday, after my friends Mike and Josh provided space to talk about my depression, I sent them a quote from Palmer who said “There is no fix here; there is maintaining presence and bearing witness.” My small group of friends hold this space for me.

Most of us don’t know how to deal with depressed people. Their misery makes us uncomfortable, so we are quick to offer suggestions. “Have you tried_______?” Many words have filled in this blank: exercise, prayer, meditation, going to church, going outside, drinking enough water, reading the Bible, eating better, sleeping more, sleeping less. Undoubtedly, these are good things to do, but too often, because suffering makes us uncomfortable, we bypass another’s pain to offer helpful solutions. (It has often been said that Job’s friends did their best work in the first week when they simply sat with Job rather than trying to find solutions). In fact, this tendency is so common in certain religious circles that there is a term for it–spiritual bypassing.

Why did I write this? Because for me, writing is one of the most therapeutic things I can do. To share my experience and have another say “me too” has been helpful to me. As a neuropsychologist, I know that I am not alone in my experience, but sometimes, I also need to bring my own darkness into the light.

on first choices

~ Jason Kanz ~ Leave a comment

I haven’t always gotten what I’ve wanted. Indeed, some of the best things in my life have happened because I didn’t get my first choice.

After graduating from Northwestern College with a degree in psychology, I wanted to get a PhD in psychology. I applied to several doctoral programs and one master’s program as a fall back. I didn’t get in to the doctoral programs, so I went to Mankato State University 27 years ago, which is where I met my wife.

After finishing my master’s degree at MSU, I again applied to a number of counseling psychology doctoral programs, but I really wanted to go to the University of Notre Dame or Virginia Commonwealth University. My undergraduate mentor had gone to Notre Dame and I had seen the movie Rudy, so it was one of my two top choices. VCU was my other top choice because Ev Worthington, a renowned forgiveness researcher, was a professor there and I wanted to continue my work studying forgiveness. I was admitted to neither. However, I did get into the University of Iowa, which is one of the top counseling psychology programs in the United States. It wasn’t my first choice, but my training was top notch. More importantly, I was exposed to, and then immersed in, neuropsychology, which became my chosen field. At the other two places, I would not have had that opportunity, but at the University of Iowa, the neuropsychology tradition was among the best.

When I applied for internship, my first choice was the University of Florida. I even bought a Gators hat because I was sure that I would get in, but UF chose other people. Instead I went to the Ann Arbor VAMC/University of Michigan, and again the training was top notch. I was able to work with a number of great mentors, but I was especially grateful for Kenneth Adams, who was not only a top notch neuropsychologist, he was an exceptional clinical psychologist and was board certified in both. He taught me the importance of a broader psychological understanding in my work as a neuropsychologist.

Finally, my first choice for residency was a functional imaging fellowship at the University of Michigan. It would have allowed me to pursue a research career in functional imaging, and to stay in the Ann Arbor area, which I loved. But I didn’t get it. Instead, I was accepted into the neuropsychology residency at the Medical College of Wisconsin, and I cannot imagine having had better training. The strength of the faculty, the breadth of opportunity, and the friendships developed were second to none.

Looking back, I am grateful for each and every “second choice.” I cannot imagine what my life would be like if I had always gotten my first choice. My life is proof that the Stones were onto something when they sang, “You can’t always get what you want, but if you try sometimes, you get what you need.”