Dinner at eight

What was dinner like for you when you were eight years old?

I believe the answer to that question can help to get to know someone better than any other question.

What was your typical 8 year old dinner like?

Who was at the dinner table?  Just immediate family, or were there cousins, aunts, uncles and others?

Was there a dinner?

Who cooked it?

Was it a time of peace or a time of distress?

Were your parents there?  Or, were only one of your parents there?  Or were neither of your parents there?

Was it harried or calm?  What did you talk about?  Or, were you allowed to talk?  

That dinner scenario likely impacts your personality, beliefs, behavior and world view more than anything I can think of.  Happy or sad.  Positive or negative.  Trusting or cynical.  Love of family or disdain for people.  Teamwork or loner.  Think about it.  Faith or atheist?  

Does it hold true for you?

How about Winston Churchill?  How about Hank Aaron?  How about Anne Frank?  How about Muhamad Ali?  How about Bill Clinton?  How about Hillary Clinton?  How about Barack Obama? How about Adolf Hitler?  How about Gandhi?  How about Tiger Woods?  How about Bill Gates?  

How about your spouse?  How about your next door neighbor?  How about your boss?  How about the people that you manage?  How about your kids?

I can think of many examples to make this point.  I've asked people in interviews.  I've discussed it with fellow workers.  

Here are two examples.

Years ago, I was teaching a class called "Before you say I do", a 10 week lesson plan for couples planning to marry.  (I know it's ironic for me, but it's true.  If only I had studied this when I was in high school.)  

We had individual "counseling" sessions with the couples.  One couple haunts my memories.  Both were attorneys.  Incredibly bright.  Incredibly successful.  Incredibly career focused.  

Thru the session, we learned something unusual.  They both owned homes.  And after they got married, they were going to keep both homes and live separately.  When I asked why, here was her answer.  "He has a huge collection of poisonous snakes.  I hate them.  And, he won't get rid of them for me.  So, I'm not living in his house."

When I asked him about this unusual plan, he responded with a snarl.  It was his life and he was going to do what he darn well wanted to.  He was smart enough to make this weird marriage work.  No one was going to tell him what to do.

I asked him why he carried so much anger.  He immediately responded, "When I was eight years old, my father told me in front of my family that I was stupid."  He then broke down and cried and you could feel the torment in him.  His fiancé had no idea.  I don't know what happened to them, but I pray he's at peace.  

On a totally different note, we had neighbors that moved in two doors down from us when I was a kid.  The Samchok family.  Allan Samchok was my age. 

I'll never forget going to his house to see if he could come out and play.  When I got to their kitchen door, I heard something I'd never heard and haven't since.  Sitting around their dinner table, the parents and the two boys sang opera.  Each would take turns.  It was the weirdest thing in the world to me.  Opera?  But thinking back, how marvelous.  Doing something together.  Music.  Happiness.  Learning history through opera.  Learning Italian and German.  What a gift those parents gave that family.  

Whatever you recall about dinner at 8, if it brings you peace, wallow in that.  Share it with your family.

If what you recall brings sadness or angst or self-doubt, talk to someone and release yourself from the pain.  It's time to get free and get happy.