Waves of Life
A Grateful Man’s Journey J I M H A M I LTO N
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L I B R A RY TA L E S P U B L I S H I N G w w w. L i b r a r y Ta l e s P u b l i s h i n g . c o m www.Facebook.com/LibraryTalesPublishing Copyright © 2022 by Jim Hamilton All Rights Reserved Published in New York, New York. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise, except as permitted under Sections 107 or 108 of the 1976 United States Copyright Act, without the prior written permission of the Publisher. Requests to the Publisher for permission should be addressed to the Legal Department: Legal@LibraryTales.com Trademarks: Library Tales Publishing, Library Tales, the Library Tales Publishing logo, and related trade dress are trademarks or registered trademarks of Library Tales Publishing and/or its affiliates in the United States and other countries, and may not be used without written permission. All other trademarks are the property of their respective owners. For general information on our other products and services, please contact our Customer Care Department at 1-800-7545016, or fax 917-463-0892. For technical support, please visit www.LibraryTalesPublishing.com Library Tales Publishing also publishes its books in a variety of electronic formats. Every content that appears in print is available in electronic books. 978-1-956769-08-1 978-1-956769-09-8
PR I NT E D IN T H E U N IT E D S TAT ES O F A M ER IC A
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W H AT P E O P L E A R E S AY I N G A B O U T WAV E S O F L I F E “Jim Hamilton and I shared the experience of learning from a master motivator, our swim coach, George French. The lessons George taught and the lessons we learned helped us both to excel in our respective fields. Waves of Life is more than a tribute. It’s a handbook of how to succeed in life.” John Naber Olympic Champion, Broadcaster, Author, Speaker and Teammate Jim Hamilton’s life story is both compelling and instructional. In Waves of Life he effectively shares his journey to self-realization through his and others’ life lessons. His words are a lesson for all, expressed in an authentic and entertaining way.” Wendy Bahr Chief Commercial Officer, Rubrik, Inc. “Jim Hamilton is a gifted storyteller who takes the reader through his Waves of Life including grief, joy and happiness. His stories draw the reader into emotional journeys that all of us have or will experience. He reminds us of how important our relationships are with friends and family. He also teaches us that each of these relationships is a gift to be protected and nurtured.” Michael Pitcher Author and Former CEO of LeasePlan USA “In Waves of Life, Jim Hamilton demonstrates a remarkable ability to look inwardly at all his frailties, vulnerabilities and weaknesses and use them to develop into a man that all of us can emulate.” Dr. Gregory Sancier, PhD.
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“Waves of Life is a book all coaches, teachers, professionals and parents should read. It emphasizes how important the influence of a positive role model is to the development of today’s youth and young adults. Jim artfully describes the challenges he faced throughout his life, experiences that are shared by many today. He then provides suggestions and encouragement to overcome those rough patches. A great and emotional read for all.” George French Educator and Swimming Coach of Olympic, Collegiate and National Champions “Waves of Life is an inspiring overview of how one can overcome life’s many adversities by making fundamental changes in attitude and perception. Jim Hamilton’s threewave metaphor is instructive and provides the reader with a deeper insight into how to overcome the major turbulences that often confront us unexpectedly. Waves of Life complements other excellent books in this genre and will inspire readers of all different backgrounds.” David Christopher Lane, Ph.D. Author and Professor of Philosophy “Throughlines of grit, gratitude and generosity run through Jim Hamilton’s Waves of Life. Jim speaks in the authentic, honest and humble voice of a man who has dealt with curveballs that life pitched to him and a few he threw at himself. If wisdom is “experience well-digested,” he is a wise guide for anyone navigating a really rough patch on their journey.” Bob Kanegis Storyteller/Coach at Story Strong
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Contents CHAPTER I The Forecast 1 The Beach 3 The Swell 7 CHAPTER II The First Wave 15 “Good Grief Charlie Brown!” 19 Strength and Endurance 23 Taking a Break 34 CHAPTER III The Second Wave 37 When the Cheese Moves 39 Drowning My Sorrows 47 The Work 53 Sweaty Palms 58 2nd Chances 61 The Salt Mines 70 Hero Worship 72 CHAPTER IV The Third Wave 83 Lemonade 1 86 The Way Home 89 Lemonade 2 99 Introductions 105 CHAPTER V Back to the Beach 115 Gratitude 119 Contributors 120
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D E D I C AT I ON To all who are hurting, struggling, and losing faith… the strength, courage and confidence are within you waiting to be unleashed.
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Chapter One T H E FOR EC AST
In Waves of Life, I will tell you about the three Big Waves I have experienced in my life. In the first Wave, I will share the shock, pain, and grief I experienced when my oldest brother died. That event led, with the help of many key people, to a sense of focus, determination, and achievement that taught me lessons which have served me well throughout my life. A few years later, the second Wave led me into a deep depression resulting in addiction, emotional turmoil, and continued grief. As this phase progressed, life lessons provided a path to self-awareness, honesty, and love. Learning from my own path of recovery and finding true love, I also learned from others and met a little girl who would become one of my heroes. I was fortunate to catch the third Wave late in life. While it was again inspired by serious illness, it has provided me with strength, joy, honesty, openness, and a sense of peace. I would never have achieved this awareness without help from family, friends, and my professional colleagues.
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I share these life nuggets not to gain your pity, but to impart knowledge and inspire hope. There is no need for sympathy. Rather I hope that the knowledge contained herein will enable you to have more empathy for people going through challenges in their lives. So please lay out your towel, unfold your chair, get comfortable, and break out a cold one as I share my story.
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THE BEACH March 14, 2015 - Eden Medical Center ICU Unit, Castro Valley, CA “Mr. Hamilton?” the ICU doctor asked, as he walked into my room. “Uh, yes?” I responded, a little startled. I knew something had happened but because of what just occurred, I wasn’t very self-aware. I was there, knew why I was there, but wasn’t very up on, or had difficulty remembering, the details. I was in a fog. It was a condition which I would grow to be more aware and hateful of over time…a condition that would become both my obstacle and motivation for the many months and years to come. “Hello, I’m the doctor in charge of the ICU. How are you feeling?” “OK,” I said cautiously and somewhat inaccurately. I had no idea how I was doing and a rather sketchy sense of what I was doing. “Alright, well I just wanted to know if you got the message,” the doctor said. “Message?” “Yes…did you get the message?” he repeated. “I’m sorry. I’m not understanding you,” I said, which was probably the most accurate statement I could make given my condition. “OK…I just want to know if you got the message,” he repeated. “Really…I don’t get it!” I said, exacerbated. Even in this cloudy condition, there was still enough of me near the surface that I could express my growing frustration with the confusing dialogue. And some of the frustration was that I had no clue as to the source of the confusion.
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“You are a very lucky man,” he began. With no pause he jumped in, but not in the way I was expecting. “You just had a stroke. And while you shouldn’t be scared or worried, that lovely woman with you SURE IS! You have some effects of stroke but in the big scheme of things, you are very lucky. “You’ve been sent a big message that you are lucky enough to be able to act on. All those unhealthy things you’ve been doing need to stop...you need to take care of yourself!” As he looked over to my wife Dora he added, “She shouldn’t have to be scared like this again. So, going back to my original question…you get the message?” While I was still in the Fog, I was aware enough to have gotten the gist of the message. “Yes. I get it,” I said. “Great! Now get some rest,” he said in a completely different, caring tone of voice. “If you need anything from us, just call. Take care. I’ll check-in with you later.” Over the next two days, he would stick his head into my room, make a spastic motion with his hand, curling his fingers in a loose fist, and shoot me a wink and a smile to check-in on me. That was part of the restart of my life in March, 2015. I remember it like it was yesterday despite the long road I have walked since. How that doctor knew the exact way to get through to that 60-year-old man, I don’t know, but I am thankful for it. Of course, he was right. None of us is invulnerable and even Superman has his kryptonite. As I recovered, I dealt with a couple of medical complications, and experienced some phenomenal twists of fate and so I decided to share some of the lessons from my own and others’ lives. We’ve all gone through or know someone who has gone through some rough patches. I have also experienced other ups-and-downs in my life. The ups have been fantastic and the downs have really sucked—a technical term referring to less than positive experiences. However, I am a very lucky person in that the downs have been rare. The challenges are not different than those with which many of you and your loved-ones have had to face. However, I don’t want to leave this life without sharing the lessons I have learned in the hope that others would avoid the 4
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avoidable and cope more effectively with the unavoidable. There is something particularly soothing about being in the ocean and as I considered how best to share my story, I I visualized the ebb and flow of ocean waves. I have always loved watching, smelling, and tasting the sea. While most of my experience in water was within the confines of swimming pools, bonding with the black line on the bottom of the pool that designated the middle of each swimming lane, I have also had a fair amount of experience in the ocean, swimming, snorkeling, and body surfing. In the book, The Yoga of Bodysurfing by Dr. David Lane, a comparison is made between riding the ocean waves without a surfboad and Hatha Yoga. Dr. Lane defines bodysurfing as the, “art of riding waves with the human body.”1 The elements of Hatha Yoga include: mastery of body postures known as asanas; mastery of hand positions known as mjdras; mastery of breath control known as pranayama; and mastery of concentration known as dhyan. Later in the book, bodysurfing is described as a “a liquid form of yoga that involves all of one’s senses within an oceanic arena.”2 That arena necessitates an understanding of how the wind, shape, size and speed of waves interact with each other and within the environment overall. The art and skill of bodysurfing seems like a meaningful way to think about how we manage our lives. By being part of and inside a wave simultaneously is essential to achieving a successful ride, just as being part of and inside our lives is critical to our personal fulfillment. Further, courage, knowledge, skill, energy, passion and adaptability are also core to both. In my conversations with Vince Askey, the founder of the Del Mar Bodysurfing Club and a fellow swimmer from my early Ladera Oaks Swim and Tennis Club days, we discussed that another key to bodysurfing is to learn from one’s own and other’s experiences. Vince spoke of sharing with less experienced surfers, often when out in the water, his knowledge 1. David Christopher Lane, The Yoga of Bodysurfing ©2018 Published by MSAC Philosophy Group, p.1 2. David Christopher Lane, The Yoga of Bodysurfing ©2018 Published by MSAC Philosophy Group, p.51 5
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and guidance to assess each ride and learn from the experience. He also shared that this learning process, coupled with skill development and natural talent, enables people to overcome the fear of challenging situations. In life, just as we have the opportunity to learn from our own experiences, we have the opportunity, if we avail ourselves of it, to learn from others with more experience or proficiency, through observation and conversation. While we cannot incorporate the input from others instantaneously, we can train ourselves to adopt the habits or traits we admire, a key part of the human experience. You may miss a wave or go “over the falls,” but if you learn from the experience and apply that learning to the next wave, the experience has not been wasted. As my mother used to say, “Those are the cards you’ve been dealt,” when referring to a difficult circumstance. Her guidance was always to not be brought down by that experience, but to draw on your experience and talent to overcome the challenge ride the wave as best you can. Throughout my life I have tried to follow that guidance, and I must say, life has been very good.
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THE SWE L L In August of 1955 at Stanford Hospital in California, I started my journey. To say I had a perfect childhood might be an exaggeration, but I don’t think it is. In the late fifties and sixties, Palo Alto, California, was the perfect suburb of San Francisco, ,somewhat similar to the Leave it to Beaver town of Mayfield. An interesting coincidence is that when Leland Stanford created the town of Palo Alto in the late 1800s, he did so because the city leaders of the neighboring town of Mayfield, California, refused to accept the conditions Stanford placed on building Stanford University in their town. Their refusal was due to Stanford’s requirement that alcohol be prohibited within the Mayfield city limits. At that time, Mayfield was known for its many saloons. Mayfield was eventually annexed by Palo Alto, agreeing to the social requirements set forth by Mr. Stanford.3 In the early 1960s, the simplicity and relative safety of life in Palo Alto seems eons ago when compared to today’s world. At the time, we didn’t appreciate the value of leaving the house on a weekend or summer’s day after breakfast and having a standing instruction to be home by dinner; lunch just happened wherever you happened to be around noon. Play dates didn’t exist as we simply walked down to a friend’s house, knocked on the front door and played. We played whatever sport was in season, imagining ourselves to be competing alongside the stars of the local sports team, e.g., John Brodie (San Francisco 49ers football), Willie Mays (San Francisco Giants baseball), Rick Barry (San Francisco Warriors basketball). Other times we just explored the hidden corners of each other’s back yards, the numerous city parks and all of the insects, frogs and other interesting wildlife in the coves and corners of San Francisquito Creek. Wherever we were, there was always some form of game we would create to add to our entertainment. That was our world and it was fun. In the real world, the decade of the Sixties was a period of great change. From the relative innocence of the early part of the decade through the assassination of JFK, through vio3. The Meeting on the Corner: “The Beginning of Mayfield’s End” PaloAltoHistory.org.
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lence of race riots and anti-war demonstrations, the United States and particularly Northern California was on steroids. A quick trip down memory lane: The top songs according to Billboard in the early 1960s were “A Summer Place” by Percy Faith and “The Twist” by Chubby Checker. The American taste in music evolved to “Bridge Over Troubled Waters” by Simon and Garfunkel, “Satisfaction” by the Rolling Stones, and “Let It Be” by the Beatles. The Nielson ratings for 1960 showed The Andy Griffith Show as the highest rated television show. By the end of the decade, shows such as Rowen and Martin’s Laugh-in, The Mod Squad, and The Flip Wilson Show, reflected both the evolution of society and expansion of self-expression within the country. 1960 started with Dwight Eisenhower as the President of the United States. He was followed by John F. Kennedy, perceived to be a young and charismatic leader who would change the direction of the nation. His assassination in 1963 not only shocked a nation but also precipitated the loss of innocence in society and a social reckoning. Racial unrest and the Vietnam War along with Richard Nixon’s election to the presidency in 1968, marked a clear end of the acceptance of what we were being told by the media, the country’s leaders, and our parents. Hence, it was the beginning of significant change in American culture. In the late 1960s we experienced quite a change to our perfect little community. Northern California and its two major universities, the University of California, Berkley, and Stanford University, were a hotbed for the demonstrations against the Vietnam War. We lived about three miles away from the Stanford University campus and our high school was across the street from Stanford Stadium. As a result, we were very much aware of the marches and sit-ins protesting the war. Our parents were liberal in their political views, yet did not participate in the civil unrest. Many of our friends and schoolmates did and as a result, what others were seeing on the evening news, we were seeing on our streets.
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Along with the anti-war demonstrations were protests against the requirement for young men to register for the Selective Service, also known as the draft. Both of my brothers had received deferments from having to enlist in the military, but it was still a very sensitive issue for everyone, particularly those who did not have any education or medical deferments. It was a time of change and loss of innocence in Palo Alto and the quaint little town would never be the same. But before our sitcom culture was disrupted, life was much simpler. In the summer of 1961, our family joined Ladera Oaks Swim & Tennis Club in Portola Valley, CA. Having learned how to swim at an early age, I was excited to join the team. And while all of the change was occurring in the world, every afternoon, regardless of season, there was swim practice and my first swim practice was a harbinger of what my life would become. On the first day of practice at the summer program, the head coach George French (we’ll hear more from him later) told me and another five-year-old to swim ten laps and he would talk to us later…basically getting us busy so he could do his best to restore order to the throng of older kids going crazy with energy and excitement. My partner, Courtney Lawson, the daughter of one of my mother’s high school classmates, and I followed instructions and began swimming laps. She was ahead of me and I kept-up with her as we swam lap after lap. I assumed that she was keeping track and so I just followed her lead. A few minutes later, I was awakened from my lap coma by a hand grabbing my arm and extracting me from the pool. It was my mother. “What are you doing?!” she asked rather worriedly. “Doing what Coach George said…swimming ten laps,” I responded, wanting to make sure I wasn’t going to get in trouble. “Well, I think you can stop now—you just swam thirty-five laps,” she informed me. 9
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After the rest of the team had finished practice, Coach George came over to see how I liked my first swim practice. As I opened my mouth to respond, out came a stream of water—no words, just water. That was almost the end of my swimming career, but after deciding against being on the team as a five-year-old, at age six I returned to the team. That decision would become a defining aspect of my life. Before swimming moved from interest to obsession, playing with my older brothers Brodie and Tom in the pool at Ladera Oaks was a huge part of my life. “Ball up!” my eldest brother Tom, eight years my senior, commanded. At seven-years-old, I complied immediately by bringing my knees to my chest and grasping my hands tightly around my shins. The technique in assuming the form of a ball in the pool was not only well-honed but executed with a willingness and excitement that indicated what was about to happen was something I was really looking forward to. Ten feet away, Brodie, six years older than me, waited to receive the human projectile. As I “assumed the position,” Tom caught me before I began to sink in the water. He proceeded to position his ‘ball’ on his shoulder with his hands expertly placed underneath it. He then threw it up in the air toward Brodie and the game of human catch would begin. Distance, height, and accuracy were the objectives of thrower and catcher as they repeated the process again and again. Regardless of their success, the wide smile on my face and my uncontrollable laughter indicated my total enjoyment was always the result. “Splat!” was the sound we all heard, and I felt, when I violated one of the cardinal rules of “Ball Up” by prematurely releasing my hold on my legs (aka “premature extenuation”) in mid-air resulting in a very loud and painful back flop on the water. “Wow! That was a good one,” laughed Tom as he gathered up his temporarily paralyzed little brother. 10
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“Hey Jimmy, do that again,” yelled Brodie. “Tom, throw him way up there this time!” “You OK?” a widely grinning Tom asked me, with just a hint of concern. “I’m fine,” I lied as I endured the painful effects of my mistake. “Let’s go!” I said as I knew that if I told my brothers I was hurting, whether for fear of parental reprisal or genuine caring, my complaint would result in my brother pausing the game. Any pause in the action could lead to an end to the game and I was not about to be the cause of that. Pain or no pain, there was nothing more fun than being my brothers’ playmate, and I would do anything and everything in my power to continue. “C’mon, let’s go,” I demanded. “OK. Ball up!” Tom directed and into the air I flew. Oh, the things those guys did to me! But you know, they could have tortured me, and I would have asked for more. In fact, they did torture me a fair amount, and I still asked for more. Anything to be with them—to be included. I remember laughing, a lot. I’m talking total uncontrollable, hurting stomach muscles, pee-in-your-pants laughter when I was with those guys. Family legend has it that in 1960, as our family was in Paris during a summer vacation, my parents and brothers, all five of us, were packed into a cab heading down the Champs-Elysees toward the Arc de Triomphe, en route to dinner. Yours truly got the giggles in reaction to Tom’s failed attempt to speak French to our cabbie. The three of us were laughing so hard that our non-English speaking cabbie had to pull-over because he was laughing and crying so hard that he couldn’t drive. If you’ve ever tried to get your young children to stop laughing, you can imagine the challenge we presented to our parents in that cab. On the one hand, they needed to calm us down so the cabbie could perform his function, yet on the other hand, any moment that three energetic children were happy with one another during a family vacation, was a moment to be savored. After a few minutes, the laughter calmed, the eyes 11
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dried, and our driver was able to get back on the road. And that is just one example of the spirit and fun of the Brothers Hamilton. I loved and idolized my brothers. I’m not sure that I thought of it in those terms back then. I just knew that there was nothing better than playing with them, and I would do anything to be part of whatever they were doing. They were great athletes. Tom would become a great football player, wrestler, and track athlete, while Brodie would play football, wrestle, and was a gymnast. They had all sorts of wonderful friends who would always come by the house, and as I recall, the brothers Hamilton always had very nice and pretty girlfriends. I’m not sure that I wanted to be like them when I grew up; I just know that I wanted to be around them as much as possible then. And they were pretty good about including me in the things they were doing, even beyond the regular Ball-Up game. It didn’t matter what I was doing, if I heard them calling my name, I was there. Excitement…Exploration…Exercise…the E’s of my childhood. While not unique for those times, it was a damn fine way to grow up. While academic discipline was ingrained in me at an early age, the 3 E’s characterize my most vivid memories before swimming became my obsession. Endless hours were spent with my Green Gables Elementary School sports gang playing football, basketball, and baseball hour after hour. The term “jock” had yet to be coined, but we took our obsession to a level beyond jockdom. By 5th grade we were keeping stats on our recess and after-school basketball games that included scoring and shooting and free-throw percentages. This geekdom led me to keep stats of the San Francisco Warrior basketball games, thanks to the radio broadcasting skills of Bill King and Hank Greenwald. I would record the stats, reformat them, and compare them to the San Francisco Chronicle’s Sporting Green the next morning.
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Through all of this, my love of swimming was developing into an obsession, evolving from being a member of that little country club program at Ladera Oaks to what was then called AAU Swimming (changed to U.S. Swimming in the late 1970’s) through high school and national level swimming. As a young child I just knew that I could swim very well and that I really, really enjoyed it. As a country club swimmer, practices were more of a social occasion than a physical workout. You would get dropped off for practice at the club and ninety minutes later, you had swum a lot, played a lot, and worked off a lot of your energy. As time went on and my skills advanced, the seriousness, science, and focus of the work-outs advanced. Through that evolution, I continued to enjoy swimming and always really enjoyed being with my friends on the team. Hanging out—before and after practice, at swim meets, and away from the pool—was a key part of my love of swimming. By the time I was twelve, I was going to swim practice twice per day, five days per week, and we often had a practice on Saturday morning. Swim meets evolved from local dual meets to AAU Age Group meets throughout California. Life was simple. Life was fun. You could say that growing-up was like one long day at the beach and there were no indications that my time on the sand was going to get disrupted by the waves to come. As the volume of the first wave swelled, I enjoyed my family, friends, school and, of course, swimming. As waves are wont to do, they have a force well beyond what we can see or control. However, I was not yet very knowledgeable about life’s waves and had no idea that I was about to go ‘over the falls.’
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Chapter Two T H E FI RST WAVE
Lying on the couch in our family room on Hamilton Avenue on a Friday evening in 1969, I was consuming oatmeal cookies and milk, while watching my favorite TV show Star Trek. Then the phone rang in the house, prompting me to jump up from the couch to answer it. The voice at the other end introduced itself as “Stanford Hospital” and asked to speak with my father. “Dad, it’s for you,” I shouted as I placed the phone down, returned to the family room, and proceeded to re-engage with the crew of the Starship Enterprise. My father had been in the living room with my mother, enjoying their Friday evening cocktails, but his mood quickly changed. Immediately after getting on the phone, my father’s face dropped and he went from being in a relaxed and jovial mood to being very serious. The conversation was a short one and upon hanging up, he called my mother into the kitchen and told her, “There’s been an accident. It’s Tom and it doesn’t look good.”
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