Rule #68243 Section 17 Subsection 12a

LG and I learned early on in our relationship that rules were going to be a key part of our life together. We also learned to laugh at the role rules played, as I started to number each new rule that came along. You're familiar with many of them:

• Don't leave your dishes in the sink (with a little leeway for a "Sandy Soak" in hot, soapy water)
• Put the laundry away
• Don't leave that there
• Pick up....(fill in the blank)
• Don't move ..... (fill in the blank)
• Shoes off in the house

I had many of my own, but they tended to remain with me:

• Make my bed every morning
• Put my laundry away (....wait...is that also above...?)
• Rinse the recylables (so they make the garbage can less stinky)

Rules, are of course, about discipline in one's life.  It's how we establish boundaries (what's yours, what's mine, what's ours), learn to respect one another (for and despite our differences), and it helps keep our lives from devolving into a world of chaos (of which there is already plenty - just turn on the news).

The rules in our relationship helped us build mutual respect.  We didn't always agree...didn't always understand the rule and its' necessity...but out of our love and respect for one another we learned to honor the rules.  We learned that our individual and mutual rules helped us better understand one another (asking "why?" about a rule was certainly allowed and encouraged).  It also allowed us to better care for one another.  I knew what LG needed to feel comfortable, safe, and at peace.  LG knew that my rules (despite their idiosyncrasy) helped me to feel the same.  

Rules in relationships help us build an ebb and flo to our day-to-day.  We come to know what to expect.  Like/agree with the rules or not, they allow us to learn more about our partner: the what and why of rules, and the significance of routine.

Rules can also teach us.  Hang a shirt up along the seams of the shoulder helps to prevent those little pucker pockets you can get.  Hang pants along the crease and you'll have to worry less abiout ironing and they look smarter.  

But the most important thing about rules, for me, was that they helped me to slow down.  To be thoughtful and disciplined.  To remain aware of my partner's needs and wants.  To learn more about my own needs and wants.  To respect one another's boundaries.  To better communicate.  And to laugh.

Laughter, by the way, was Rule #1. 

Why Don't People Take Their Coats Off In Church?

Last winter I noticed something when I went to church.

I noticed it because I became acutely aware of people looking at me.

It happened when I arrived and entered my pew.  I'd walk in to my favorite spot on the pew (don't we all have that?!)  and would take off  my gloves and hat, my backpack or bag, then unwrap my scarf and fold it, then, finally, my coat, being careful to fold it just right so that it sat on the pew next to me.

It was my usual pattern. Until one day, as I was going through the motions, I noticed that everyone around me was watching me.  I thought maybe I was being loud.  But I knew I was very careful to not intrude upon the stillness of the space.  In fact, when I'd purchased a new winter coat that year, I'd intentionally avoided one with a shell that was loud and made lots of 'rustly' noise.

But as I looked around at my fellow parishoners, I suddenly became very self-conscious to the fact that I was one of but a few people who had taken their coat off.  In fact, at communion time, I observed that less than 20% of us had taken our coats off even when coming up for communion.

Why?

I suppose there are some common sense reasons:

• theft
• takes up space in the pew
• temperature of the church

Yet the building was fairly warm and nothing a sweater couldn't handle.  And in all my years at the Parish I'd never heard of a coat being stolen.  Yes, my coat did take up another seat in the pew (had their been someone who wanted to sit next to me), but you can always sit on your coat, so...?

Keeping your coat on in Church makes you seem like you're on your way somewhere else.  I can't imagine keeping my coat on in church, and yet, I think that's where my Protestant roots influence me to this day.  In the Methodist Church, which I attended during my elementary school years, there were coat racks in the church hall, where you left your coat during services.  It's also where you returned after services, to join other congregants for coffee and fellowship.  Catholics don't seem to have a big tradition of that - certainly not in my Parish.

For me, church is home.  When I go, I want to sit down with God, my fellow parishioners, and spend an hour in song and prayer and reflection and communion.  I want to stay and be comfortable.  I want to be present mind, body and spirit.  Keeping my coat on would feel like I had one foot out the door and on the way to the next activity.

So I'll keep taking my coat off in church.  And perhaps those who chose not to will wonder why.

Ayeka - where are you?

As the Jewish Holidays draw near, I reflect on Rabbi Klienbaum's drash @CBST from a couple of years ago.

Simply put, she challenged us to look into God's question to Adam: "ayeka?" - "where are you?"

Marc Gellman (Where Are You, Adam? http://www.firstthings.com/article/1996/05/003-where-are-you-adam) writes that in this season of Ayeka we are asked to:

• render a spiritual accounting not of our careers, but of our compassion;
• not of our wealth, but of our wisdom;
• not of our gains, but of our gifts;
• not of our physical fitness, but of the fitness of our souls.

Where am I?  Where are you?

L'shanah tovah tikatevu

Transitions: Back to Work!

After a long break, I began a new full-time job this week.  Although I maintained a lot of structure and schedule to life while I was home, the transition has required everything from figuring out the wardrobe (it's NYC, so black is it), the shoes, the bag to carry, where the Metrocard is, which trains to take, when to leave the house, etc.

I'd forgotten how exciting it could be to work in Manhattan, particularly work in a very active part of the island.  The last job kept me in the Wall Street / Broadway canyons. While it could get busy and had its share of tourists, it never quite felt exciting.

The Chrysler Building
from 41st Street

Now I'm on 42nd Street:  a block from the Chrysler Building, two blocks from Grand Central Station, 3 (in the opposite direction) from the U.N. Friday afternoon, a huge parade of protesters made its way down 42nd Street, past our building...drums, chants, whistles, and lots of literature being passed on.  Did you know that "There are 200 million fewer Chinese Communists"?  Busy, busy, busy.  True NYC hustle 'n bustle.  LOVE IT!

I found myself channeling "Sweetness" (aka Walter Payton) as I dodged, wove, hustled, twisted, and broke through the crowds to make my way across town to the office.  I've discovered the banks, drug stores, salad bars, restaurants, gardens/outdoor plaza's, and a sundry stores and markets, all within a few blocks.

In the mornings, I've explored a variety of ways getting to the office, working to find the most efficient pathway.  So far I have it down to 50 minutes, door-to-door, but know I can shave a few more minutes off of that time.  In the evenings, I explored the plethora of pedestrian tunnels and underground passages to make my way to any number of train choices.  That'll come in handy on bad weather days and days I just don't want to deal with above ground crowds.

I will definitely miss the routine of the last few month:  Mass in the morning, job hunting, volunteer work, long walks in the afternoon, cooking dinner.  But right now, I'm welcoming the routine of the new job.  It's a welcomed transition.

Faith Grows Old With Us

The Communal Penance Service was tonight.

I'm always left feeling deeply touched and slightly surprised when I see older people participating: writing their confession on a slip of paper to take to the Priest, asking for absolution, then adding their paper to the communal urn where it will be burned at the end of the service.

I'm surprised because I believe older people have it all figured out and live life completely, divinely: well past the transgressions of youth.  I suppose that's what I want to believe.  I must admit, I've met one or two older people who don't fit that description - far from it!

Perhaps it's my hope that the years will leave me wiser and more certain, having made my mistakes early and not doomed to repeat any.  Wishful thinking, I suppose.

When I see older people making confession, my heart is touched.  I'm reminded that life is a process and we are never fully complete.  We must keep reaching out and asking forgiveness.  We must keep trying hard to live our lives as loving, faithful people.

Faith grows old with us.  How surprisingly touching.

I Should Have...Trusted God

And then it happens.  Something bad happens to someone we love.

We knew "something was wrong".  We saw it...or felt it...or supposed it.

But we set it aside, hoping for the best, assuming it was all "nothing".

And then the reality hits.  It is something.

It is bad news: It is...[fill in the blank]

And then we pile on the "should have's" -

I should have... known.

I should have made her/him __________.

I should have... asked.

I should have... pushed.

"Should have's" allow us to appoint guilt and ownership - to ourselves.  

"Should have's" allow us to take a situation and place it squarely in our control.  But it isn't.

For a long time I blamed myself for my mom dying.  And I did it again with my dad.

I should have...paid more attention.  I should have...said something.

But, over time, I've learned that when it comes to something bad happening to someone else - It's not ours to control.  

We waste time with guilt and "should have's".  With blame and control.

So, if something bad happens to someone you love - focus on the moment.

Focus on being present.  Regardless of what that means in terms of time on the clock or on the calendar.  Release the guilt and control.

When we stay in the present, in the moment...that is where we need to be.

God, the Universe, chose the path.  We have to walk it.

No "should have's".  Only present, in the moment.

How Loud Do Our Prayers Need To Be?

My church has a Sunday nite Mass during which we're invited to share our prayer intentions with the whole congregation during the Prayer of the Faithful.  For those non-Catholics, that means that in addition to the Priest reading off a list of prayer intentions, he takes the microphone and walks down the aisle and invites people to come out of the pews to share their own, personal intentions.

Over the weeks, I've noticed something.  When prayers are offered up for countries, conflicts, people and places far removed from our parish community, the people respond faithfully, but somewhat dispassionately, "Lord, hear our prayer".

But when one of our own prays for one of their own - a father/mother, aunt/uncle, sibling, cousin, best friend, neighbor - there is an infusion of energy and commitment to "Lord, hear our prayer".  Even if we personally do no know an individual offered up in prayer, our connection with the congregant sitting with us is enough to bring passion into our response.  Our voices get louder.  We stand up a bit taller.

So it got me wondering....Does it make a difference to God which prayers we say with more conviction?  What happens to the prayers we acknowledge out of obligation but whose issues, locations, politics seem far away from our own?  The ones to which we respond in almost hushed voice.

Are we loud enough when in comes to offering up poverty, war, terrorism, crime, natural disasters, famine, genocide...?

How can our prayers become as passionate about those issues, as they are about the ones closest to our own homes and hearts?

Life is Like an Ant Farm...or Maybe a Rabbit Hole

At least some days it feels like it - to me.  It's the experience of living in a tight, well-constructed little world in which I'm running hither and yon, only to end up in the same place I started.

But more than that, I often feel like I am doing it all at the amusement of God / Great Creator.  In fact, I feel pretty certain that the Ant Farm I live in actually sits on his desk, where S/He derives great pleasure from watching my frenzied little self.


This past month, however, I felt more like I fell down the rabbit hole.  Within a period of four weeks, multiple people from my past, the majority of whom I had not seen in over two years, suddenly reappeared.  Well...let me clarify that (since it sounds like Scotty beamed them all up in my living room one morning).

I've stayed in touch with many of these folks via phone, text and emails.  But it's been years since I've spent a couple of days with them sitting together in conversation, enjoying a meal together.

Thanks to a combination of holiday visits and a national conference, I had the opportunity to reacquaint myself with a number of people with whom I've known for many years.  It was disorienting...and embarrassing.

THEN                                                                                           NOW
=====                                                                                         + 30 lbs
Director in a Nat'l Organization                                         Unemployed
Leading                                                                                      Looking
$$$                                                                                                       -$
Confident                                                                                 Uncertain

Thank goodness for good people, though.  They didn't bat an eye and treated me like we'd just spent time together last week.  It made me miss them all the more when it came time to say goodbye.
Not to mention the fact that I'm back in the Ant Farm....

Fate or Faith (aka: Waiting for the Rainbow Ponies to Rescue Me)

I never knew what I wanted to be when I grew up.  Primarily because fate always intervened.  That is, until now.  Now I just don't know.  And go figure - fate is nowhere to be found.

This desire to do something profound...to make a "real" difference in the world is fine.  I've lived with it all my life.  I'm realizing that this is not the problem.  The problem is that I'm sitting around waiting it to magically happen.

Note two keys words in that last sentence:  "waiting" and "magically".  That alone should tell me what the problem is!

I'm reading "Heed Your Call:  Integrating Myth, Science, Spirituality, and Business" by David Howitt.  In it, Howitt talks about a lot of amazing concepts that can help you rethink how one can own their life and, most important to me, how one can stop waiting and start making things happen in their life.

He talks about 'trust' and 'surrender' as key ingredients in transforming ourselves, that "when applied with action, create success."  You mean it really doesn't happen magically?  I just can't sit and read books with great concepts and VOILA!  my life will come together in one neat, meaningful package?!  You mean I can create my own "profound gifts" without waiting?  Seriously?

Ah...but wait...there's a catch, right?  Yep.

Howitt writes a lot about "living in the moment," "trust and surrender," "allowing the cosmos to work out the details," "co-create the universe," "manifestation of endless possibilities"....

Now we're getting a little "Rainbow Ponies" on me (sorry Hasbro!).  I like my life with an order of 'practical' and a side order of 'realistic' topped by a spoonful of 'doable' - thank you very much.  Trusting...surrendering...living in the moment...not my comfort zone.

Perhaps I have to set Fate aside and give Faith a chance.  After all, isn't Faith about trust and surrender?  Maybe it's time to quit handing over the reigns to Fate and waiting.  It may be time to drive the team of Rainbow Ponies myself.  Time to take action. ACTION!

Giddy-up Rainbow Ponies!  Let's go "co-create the universe"!  And aw-w-w-w-ay we go!

www.Heedyourcall.com

Listen to David Howitt's TEDTalk

Installing Updates...

Slowly.

My machine's a bit old.  And the RAM ain't what it used to be (wink, wink).

But while things are installing, I've taken some time to read the manual.  Interesting.

Not as boring as one might have anticipated.

Here's what I'm learning:

• Live in the moment.
• Allow the cosmos to take care of the details.
• Trust and surrender.

WHAT!  Are you kidding me!!  I can't do that!  

No way.  Nope.  My original manual says something entirely different:

1. Control everything you can leading up to, in, and after every moment.
2. Prepare Plan B and Plan C because, if you don't, no one will.
3. Trust no one to do it as well as yourself.
4. Repeat Step 1.

You're going to tell me that this new system is going to replace the old, which, by the way, with the exception of side effects, was doing just fine.  What side effects?  Small ones, like

• Insomnia
• Agita and weight gain
• Aggravation and disappointment
• Obsessiveness
• Inability to relax

Well....Now that I look at the list....But, NO!  There is no way that after all this time I am going to give up control!  It's not in my nature.  It's inherent.  It's who I am.  It's...exhausting and wearing my system down.

So you think that this system update will magically fix all of this?  Sounds like Rainbow Pony crap to me.  Hmmmmm....

Going to a Bread Box Church

They say you can't judge a book by its' cover...but I did.  With my parish church, nonetheless.

I live a block away from my church.  I've lived a block away from the church for over sixteen years. But I waited nearly seven year before I went in.  Why?

Because it was a bread box church.

Huh?

I know...but look at it.

No steeple.

What church has no steeple?

What happened to that little ditty we used to say when I was a kid?

         "Here's the church,
          Here's the steeple.
          Open the door,
          Here are the people!"

I know.  Pathetic.  Pathetic that I wouldn't go into a church, my parish church, because it is just a big, rectangular building sans steeple.  It reminded me of a giant bread box. I couldn't get past the wrapping for the longest time.  I assumed it would be as boring and 'boxy' on the inside as it was on the outside.

It reminds me of last Christmas and my gift to my brother, Al.  He lives in the Midwest, so after carefully and lovingly finding his presents, I had to find a box in which to ship them.  In the name of "Reclaim-Restore-Recycle" I found the perfect box - reusing a box from a purchase I'd made a few months earlier.

On Christmas night I called Al to see if he liked his presents.  He and his family were just finishing dinner and he was thrilled that I'd called at the right moment: "Your timing is perfect!" he said.  "Your niece is just getting ready to do the dishes!  She's been waiting for this moment all day!"

Huh?  I assumed it was my brother's typical cynical humor.  Doing the dishes at Christmas dinner sounded torturous - especially for a teenager!

"She can't wait to open the gift you sent!" Al explained (facetiously).

"Really?  She didn't open her gifts this morning?"  I was really confused.

"You remember what you sent, right?" Al sounded a bit more tentative now.

"Uh...no...I'm not sure what we're talking about, Al"  I racked my brain, trying to figure out what he was talking about.

"The dish rack and drain,"  Al announced which great enthusiasm!

Oh, my.  Al was talking about the reclaimed< > recycled box I'd sent with his presents in!  He'd never opened the box with the gifts I'd so carefully picked out and sent him!  He thought I'd forgotten him!

He was wonderfully surprised and excited (and my niece was relieved!).

That's what my 'bread box church experience was like.

Once I got beyond the packaging and opened the doors of the Church - it was like an unexpected gift at Christmas!

I love my bread box church.  It's full of wonderful gifts that I cherish in my life.  And it's taught me to look beyond the outside.  To have courage to open the doors and go inside - whether we're talking about new places, new people, new experiences.  You might just be surprised! (a little relieved!)

Please wait while we install a system update...

...if only that could work for humans!

I found myself emailing a friend yesterday and telling her how I was taking some time off to "reset" - intentionally making space in my life to think through the next move in my life.

I know I can't do this alone...in my own head...talking to myself.  And even my small group of family & friends isn't enough.  No, this system update will first require a clean-up:  de-fragmenting my hard-drive, putting together the scattered pieces, and deleting old data and corrupt messages.  I suppose a virus scan wouldn't hurt as well.  Gosh knows what I've picked up along the way!

So, I'm investing in myself:  in the process and the work.  A system update only works if you agree to it.  It's necessary, but it's tempting to put it off for "later" because there are things we want to do and we don't want to wait for the process to complete.

I'm planning that this update will result in:

1. Identifying the job that is a great fit.
2. Putting balance back into my life.
3. Learning to speak as a Leader.

Faith on the Outside, ? on the Inside

I'm a pretty faithful-appearing person on the outside.  I wear the trappings of my Faith pretty well.

In my pocket, I carry around a little wooden rosary, blessed by the Holy Father himself!  I rub it and tangle it up in my fingers whenever I'm standing and waiting, or sitting in a meeting listening, or just thinking.  I have no idea how it works - no one ever taught me.  I suppose I could find a YouTube video.  For now, it's kinda like a rabbits foot.  I'm not sure it's working real well....

I have a beautiful print of the church where I was confirmed and received first communion.  It's right above my desk at work, where I could, if I were so inclined, gaze upon it and remind myself of my Faith.  I tend to do that only when I'm exhausted and defeated and wondering what life is all about....

I volunteer at church.  Or did.  The minute my commitment ended I begged off, with mutterings of being tired and needing a break.  All the while promising to help with this and with that other thing.  I love saying I do stuff at the church.  Now to make the time to do it....

And I do pray.  When I'm feeling worn down, lost, seeking direction.  Occasionally I'll do my best St. Francis impression and actually thank God for a beautiful day or the fresh air or the time to walk and sing tunes in my head..  Occasionally....

I guess I'm just an every day kinda person when it comes to Faith.  I play at it well.  I go through lots of the motions.  But inside...?

Shadows of the Past

I saw you, shadows of my past,
standing in front of me in the deli,
ahead of me on the way to the office, sitting across from me on the train.

Silhouettes of people I've worked with,
colleagues now moved on to other
jobs,
states,
lives.

My heart aches for it to have been you.
To have walked up to you and asked
what you thought about the latest article,
the new survey being developed,
the current thinking about board development.

I hope you're well,
shadows of my past.
I'm relieved the sun hasn't faded you.

God Gave me an Epiphany for my Birthday

[no disrespect to Ellen Degeneres....www.youtube.com/watch?v=rdGbJWuFdNk]

Me:   ...I don't know what it is you're calling me to do with my life right now...
God:  Right.
Me:    I really wish I knew exactly what it is you want me to do...
God:   Right.
Me:    I'm trying to figure it out myself.  I listen...hard.
God:   Right.
Me:    Maybe you're telling me right now and I'm just not listening hard enough...
God:   (smile) RIGHT!
Me.    I feel like your call is right here in front of me and I just can't see...er...feel...ah...hear it.
God:   (smile, and a quiet sigh)  Escribir.
Me:    Que?
God:   Escuchar a mí - escribir!
Me:    Excribir?

- silence -

Me:    OMG!  Write!  You've been telling me to write...right?!
God:   (smile)
Me:    Write!  I get it!

- silence -

Me:    Lord...I don't know what it is you are calling me to write...
God:  (sigh)

Ghosts of Xmas Past

Tonight I sat in church with a ghost. Well...maybe that's a bit of stretch. Let me back up.

Tonight was communal penance service at church. When I arrived, a small group of people had already settled in. I picked up my service program, a pencil, and my slip of paper to write down my sins, then headed to "my" pew (those of you who area active in your Faith community know what I'm talking about...the favorite spot to sit week after week. And God forbid you arrive and someone else is sitting there! It throws off the mojo!).

A few minutes before the service started an elderly gentleman came and squeezed in beside me. Mind you, there were empty pews in front and behind me. But I'd left just enough room for one person, and clearly he was it. Now I'm used to seeing the same people around me week-to-week, and I honestly don't recall seeing this man before. Even for special occasions. But that's ok. I smiled up at him as he sat down and he smiled back. All good.

He didn't have all paperwork that was need and since the service was ready to begin, I nodded to him and whispered "we can share". I noticed a pretty pronounced tremor in his hands, so I tore my paper in half and handed it to him. He smiled and said "ok" in a heavy accent. Then the service began and the organ kicked in. O Come Emmanuel. The gentleman sang the first few lines, then he appeared to get lost. His voice faded and became silent. I gave him the program so he could hold it closer, just in case he couldn't see the words well. I lowered my voice an octave so we could sing together. He didn't shirk away and joined in now and again. 

We did the same through the readings and communal prayers. I started to notice his hands as he held our shared program. In addition to the tremor, I noticed his freckles. They reminded me of my dads hands. And the fact that the Gospel was the return of the Prodigal Son led my mind away from the Homily and into my own thoughts.

I realized I'd been thinking about dad a lot recently. Usually I miss mum around the holidays, but not so much this year. Dad often visited at Christmas time, so I have lots of fond memories of concerts, dinners out, Christmas crackers and trips to Myers of Keswick for my annual treat of Cornish pasties and Xmas pudding.... I've been thinking about how old dad was getting before he passed and watching him slow down.

I've also been thinking how lonely he must have been, living alone. Although very much a 'loner' the thought of dad alone on the Holidays, probably with a tin of sardines and a custard tart to keep him company left me feeling sad. 

So when this older man ended up sharing the pew with me, I felt a real tenderness towards him. He followed along with the service pretty well, but at times we seemed to move too quickly and he struggled with the reading. I wasn't sure if it was the language or his vision. It didn't matter. I found myself slowing down on the responsorials, even if it meant the two of us were ten beats behind the rest of the congregation.

Soon it was time to write down our sins and take them forward to the priest for absolution. The line was long and the organ was fantastic, so, I wasn't in a hurry. Eventually, the gentleman got up and walked towards the back of the line. About five minutes later, I too walked back to get into line. But as I looked around, I didn't see him. I thought he'd gotten in line. Perhaps he went to another priest? No. He was gone.

I actually thought that maybe I'd imagined him. Why come to a penance service, sit through the service, then leave before the penance itself? Perhaps I'd gotten so lost in my thoughts about dad that I'd conjured up this elderly man!

When I finally got back to my pew, I looked over at the empty space next to me. And there, on the floor, were two slushy footprints. He had been there! As Fr. Murphy dimmed the church lights and lit the urn where all our sins/slips of paper sat, and as the flames reached up and danced, as though the Holy Spirit itself was leading...my heart turned from melancholy to peace.

Happy Christmas, dad (and mum). You are missed.

My muse...my Moose. Wherefore art thou?

Some of you (ok...a lot of you) know that last year, while still at BBBSA, I had an intern join me in my work. Holly Moose was a true find! Many of you have worked with interns and know how it can be hit or miss.


But not Holly! She was all about the work!  She inspired and challenged us.  Granted, there was the occasional misstep, like the time she was put in charge of one of the CEO's nationwide calls and half the country couldn't dial in for about 20 minutes.  She claimed the need for 'accommodation' because her hoofs interfered with her ability to dial "all those numbers".  We, of course, complied.

There was also the time she had to be written up for sneaking into Sue's office at night and eating her walnuts ( some excuse about dietary needs, that were certainly of no concern to Sue and I!) Again, Holly claimed that the work environment was not meeting her needs, so we gave her access to the nuts and to a few plants around the office.  We learned to value Holly's differences and the ways in which they made all of us better humans.

Regrettably, shortly after Holly joined us, she was kidnapped.  Rumor had it that employees who had been 'released' the year previously were involved.  The entire incident resulted in a slew of ransom notes and threats which only served to slow me down on my real work.   


Standards deliverables had to be delayed by an entire quarter while I struggled to negotiate with Moose-nappers and do my job.  While the 'nappers'(as Holly likes to call them) were never identified, rumor is that the Mossad was involved (or was that the Moose-ad?), possibly in some effort to eliminate non-Kosher meats.   HR provided her with the number to EPA...EAP...?... services for help with PTKS (Post-Traumatic-Kidnapping-Syndrome).  But my respect and admiration for Holly grew ten-fold.  What she endured to be able to continue working with us!

Through it all, Holly prevailed. Once returned to BBBSA, Holly jumped right back into the CEO chair, nibbling on walnuts and single-hoofidly finished all the samples, templates, tools, and coordinated the webinars around Standards. Holly turned out to be amazing!

 Then I left BBBSA. And while my colleagues were professional and polite about my decision, it was Holly who was top of mind for them. When I drove into Philly on my final day to take all my nic-nacs home, Holly was no where to be found. Not in her cubicle, not in the kitchen sniffing for garbage, not in Charles's office, playing CEO.

I arrived in Denver at the National Conference only to be confronted by Holly's union Rep (when did that happen?) Apparently Holly no longer wanted to intern with me.  Not at BBBSA.  Not at my new job.  "Never ever," was how her Rep delivered the news to me.  Some nonsense about how I created an unsafe work environment, failed to meet her needs, made her do all my work - nonsense!

Imagine my disappointment and bitterness.  Nearly 9 months of work together and this is how she felt!  But it wasn't over.  Oh, no. 

To my amazement, I learn that Holly had negotiated to stay at BBBSA and intern with her new BNAMFF (Best-not-a-Moose-Friend-Forever), Sue!  And what's more - she wanted to work on the new project - AIM360 with "those nice girls".  


Apparently, while I thought Holly was off making copies and filing, she was off cozying up to the AIM360 team!

So now Holly Moose is preparing for a new adventure.  Despite rules against moose-ization with Moose interns and staff, Sue has managed to break the rules and has started 'girl weekends' with Holly!  Last weekend it was mani-pedi's, a new skirt and clogs for Holly:  her new life is getting ready to begin.  I am left to seek solace in reflecting back on all I have learned from Holly; all the ways I have grown; all the warm memories I take with me.  The definition of Muse is "to gaze meditatively on, be astonished".  Holly Moose you have truly been my muse.

 

L'Shana Tovah

(Note - written at the start of Rosh Hashana.) One of the things I often puzzle about is what % of my sense of being "too busy" is real and what % is just my own perception of being "too busy".  It's easy to stuff ones brain full of 'work,' leaving too little time to reflect, to sing, to dream, to day dream, to hum, to be at peace with one's self.

This all came to mind this week when I got on the train Thursday morning.  Instead of being 2-3 people deep on the subway platform, there was no one around.  "I must have just missed a train," I thought to myself as I turned up my music and waited for the next train.  But the next train arrived about three minutes later and to my happiness, there were multiple seats available!

Four stops later, I switch to the "A" train and the same thing happens - an empty platform and empty seats.  Swe-e-e-e-e-eT!  I arrive at Fulton Street and start the hike upstairs, sans the massive crowds.  Now I'm beginning to wonder.  I know public schools aren't back in session, but parochial schools are, so, in theory, there should be more people on the train.  Hmmmmm.  I decide it's the last chance for families to get away before school starts on Monday, so everyone must have gone on vacation!

Four hours later, I get it.  It's the Jewish Holiday!  I'm in New York City.  Folks are at shul - not work!  Remembering, reflecting.  Standing still in the chaos of life.  I'm so "busy" in my own mind that I missed it.  There's a lesson here.

Letrs frum en inturn

Hay it's mey.  Holly. I snuked in too Sandeeyz spot too riyt u. Wayt. Let mes put spel chyk on. Ok. That's better. I'm worried about Sandy. I think something ate her. It may be happening to Sue, too. It all has to do with meetings. I think Sandy went to one and never came back. She used to say how meetings were eating into her time.  I think they may have swallowed her whole!

Slowly people around here are disappearing.  They say, "I'm going downstairs to a meeting," or "I'll be right back.  I have a meeting."  And then they're gone.  It gets quieter and quieter.  Not that I mind.  Moose like solitary spaces.  But occasionally I hear sobbing.  I'm worried.

My new boss-ess, Sue (she tells me to call her "Goddess," but I'm not convinced) might be getting eaten, but really, really slowly.  She'll come to work in the morning all happy and cheerful, singing a little, occasionally twirling and clapping (it makes me dizzy to watch).  She's all about getting things done - "focus, focus, focus," she says to me in that happy, smiley voice.

But soon she's get quiet and stop moving.  She'll sit at her desk, looking at the light box and start talking to herself.  Then she'll turn to me and say, "Ok, Holly.  I have to go to a meeting now.  Wish me luck".  When she comes back, it's like something has happened.  She's talking to herself.   She's  She keeps saying "I can't stand it.  This is painful".  She sits at her desk rubbing her head saying, "I don't get it.  I just don't get it."   It's like her brain is being eaten.  And then she'll look at me and say, "Who the hell are you and what are you looking at?!"  And I try not to have eye contact except that my eyes are glued open and in one direction, so it's really hard.

And then there's the memory thing.  Boss-ess Sue will come back from one of those meeting things and she can't remember very good!  She walks around, and around, and around in her office,  muttering...and then she'll look at me and say, "Holly!  Where did I put ______?"  Or, "Holly!  Have you seen ________?"  Yesterday she wanted me to tell her where her car keys were!  Doesn't she know that cars are Moose Death Machines?  Clearly she needs some sensitivity training!!    But that man has disappeared, too.

Whatever this meeting thing is, it's effecting behavior.  It makes people mean.  I thought when I was kidnapped that maybe it was just an accident.  But then it happened a second time.  And everyone just laughed.  I thought this was a place that cared and wanted to "make a difference"?

I think these "meeting" things are slowly killing people here.  At the very least, based on Sue, I think they're eating people's brains.  And I don't know what to do.  I hope I don't have to go to any meetings.  Ever. 

Walking Home Backwards

...er...not literally (if I did that, you'd probably be sending me 'Get Well' cards right about now!)

This was my first full week of taking the "A" train to and from work, thanks to the "R" train tunnel being closed.  You all remember the "A" train, don't you - http://youtu.be/bHRbEhLj540 - or are you all too young  :>)  How about "New York, New York a wonderful town...the Bronx is up and Battery is down"?  http://youtu.be/x7CIgWZTdgw

But I digress!  The result of my subway train was that at the end of the day, I had to walk back the way I came in the morning. Until now, I'd only taken the "A"train to work - never home.  Now, you may not think that's any big deal.  But when you're in lower Manhattan, 2 blocks from the "Canyon of Hero's" it is a rich experience.  And slightly disorienting, as well! Think of it, all yea suburban dwellers! How many of you park in the same spot at the mall every time (over by Sears, where there's one of only 4 trees,to allow my car some shade).  There's a reason we are creatures of habit!

I suppose this is just another way life has turned direction for me. In so many ways my life today is like I've turned around and headed in the opposite direction.  And getting my bearings is not easy!

 

Yes, I'm still working in the mentoring world and, yes, youth development is still my focus. But perspective has a lot to do with how we manage change. As familiar as the work is, turn me around, introduce new process, tools to manage the process, systems to manage the tools and the process...well...it's a bit disorienting.   Which, in turn, is scary.  Perhaps, then, the greatest challenge is in how we cope.

The first few days of my journey in reverse were disorienting. Made worse by the fact that I work in a part of town that consists of named streets and not numbered ones, I kept getting a sense I was going in the wrong direction. Surrounded by unfamiliar landmarks and a bunch of buildings either under construction or being repaired following Storm Sandy, uptown and downtown weren't clear to me anymore. I had to remind myself that I was smarter than I was feeling and that if I just tried to change my frame of reference, I'd be ok.

I took two approaches to coping: I held on to my common sense (if the street was running downhill, it was most likely heading toward a river), and I put on my best Lewis and Clark impression and approached it all like an adventure. After all, what was the worst that could happen? I walk a few blocks out of my way?

Which, of course, did happen. And, as a result, I discovered a route that cut at least 2 blocks of my walk; 2 post offices en route (how handy is that?); 2 dollar stores (keep in mind, I work 3 blocks from the NY Stock Exchange!); and a Church (with those 15 minute mini-services that city churches in business areas seem to have).   Before I knew it, what started out as an anxious time has now become a journey of discovery - Henry Hudson, move over!

So for my friends who aren't city dwellers, next time you're at the mall or the grocery store, try 'walking backwards' for a different perspective. See what you discover that you may not have noticed before. Name your favorite explorer and head-off in a new direction! Approach it with eyes open, courage and curiosity.  Journey on!