Category: discretion

discretion, friendship, inspiration, life lessons, love, mindfulness, music, parenting

Home Ec.

mimijk

“Hem your blessings with thankfulness so they don’t unravel”

Good advice, though I can’t sew.  I can’t even loosely baste a seam.  I failed sewing in the seventh grade, for the teacher didn’t consider it fashion forward to have the armhole of my jumper positioned at the hip.  I didn’t do much better at home economics (yes, they had courses such as this – let’s save the shock and awe for another day, shall we?), though I excelled at pudding.  And passing notes.

Which retrospectively suggests that I had my priorities straight even then – as long as you had good people around you, everything else would follow.  Take care of the ones you love.  Pass the notes, hold the secret, righteously defend (“Mimi would be an exemplary student if she were a bit less social”).  Ah well.  It is with this limited skill set that I have built my house.  Ultimately I bought the drapes and learned how to cook.  And though no one would mistake me for Martha Stewart, I’d say this is a pretty awesome home.  People curl up when they get here, they nestle in.  Shoes come off, defenses are shed, talk is uncensored, silence is religious.  There is nothing more transcendent than this.

Our Thanksgiving plans got derailed by my little surgery a few days back and we’re staying here instead of heading up to New Jersey.  The kids will be with their in-laws.  And as much as I will miss the noise, the laughter, the hugs – I am fortunate enough to have all this love around me every day.  The air is filled with “I love you’s”,  each room holds secrets told in whispers that repeat as favorite lyrics co-written once upon a time, and there is comfort in the sighs of the couch as I settle in to listen to the stories of home.  When I feel the sun on my back and I find magic in this very moment, I know that my bounty is as massive as my gratitude.

So as many of you head points north, east, west or south – travel safe.  Eat a lot, laugh more, grab a nap.  Take a walk, give out hugs.  Share your love.   Enfold these moments in your heart, for they will become the most gorgeous aspects of your home.  They become the most treasured parts of you.

anxiety, discretion, friendship, humor, inspiration, life lessons, love, mindfulness, music

When There Are No Answers

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“There are years that ask questions and years that answer.” — Zora Neale Hurston

It really is a little frustrating to consider how long it’s taking to get back into my groove.  I’m still crazy tired,  remain in stitches (though I’m not laughing), swollen, sore and without the energy to even consider where my get-up-and-go has relocated.  I know it hasn’t even been a week.  I’m petulant.  I don’t care.  This place I’m sitting in feels like really thick  pea soup and I don’t even like pea soup.  At about this point in my kvetching  I begin to talk to myself (needless to say the tone is harsh and very imperious – you don’t argue with a voice like that).  In effect she says, “Will you just knock it the hell off?  So what?  You’re uncomfortable?  Get in line and in the interim, puleeze shut up.”  And I do.

In the span of time that I have assumed the position of a lump, so much has been happening around me that perhaps my absence of movement is by universal design.  Someone’s heart is aching with the uncertainty that comes with self-doubt and fear of loss;  another prepares for a familial re-arrangement that will demand her energy and facility with the emotional bob-and-weave.  One friend works to rebuild her family’s factory post-Sandy, ending each day more exhausted and spent than the day before,  knowing full well that tomorrow the day begins again.  And another story is beginning as an amazing soul works to establish herself in a new position which combines her tremendous talent with her equally impressive sense of aesthetic.  I see a person I care about being forced to consider new employment for reasons which make an ethical retired HR exec break out in hives.  No one is curled up on the couch right now, covered up in the deliciously soft and worn blanket with the embroidered words “just be”.

My friends are caught in various stages of the years that pose the queries.  Some perhaps are closer to answers than others.  And if there is one thing that we all share it is the need to embrace the times when we just don’t know, when the answers are elusive (perhaps because we’re asking the wrong questions),  and the only option available is to keep asking.  Keep being uncomfortable.  Wonder, doubt, assert, withdraw, huddle, hide – and ask.  Now is not the time to stop asking, for closure without answers that feel good in your skin,  is no closure at all.  Learning to love the questions is a little like learning to love being out of balance.  Out of balance means that you can grab for something to keep you from falling without having to hold onto it forever.  Out of balance means that you see the world with the perception needed to focus on one thing – and perhaps seeing it with the most exquisite clarity.  Out of balance means that you are exercising the emotional muscles that have to be toned to keep you upright, albeit shakily.  Love the  questions as much as you seek the answers.  They must be posed – this is their time.

I too am asking questions all the time — from the mundane (why can’t they just find out what is taking up real estate in my jaw) to the more complicated (what is my next dance step?  what music feels right?  what am I waiting for?).  This is the time and I am not shying away from the exercise.  Yes, it makes my heart beat faster, tears fall with a little less censorship and sometimes I’m sure that I am jumping out of my skin.  And then I focus on an enormous blue jay holding a twig of crepe myrtle in its mouth, knowing with certainty he’s off to build a future.  Aren’t we all?

[youtube.com/watch?v=EcH6rHAH43w]
anxiety, discretion, friendship, humor, inspiration, life lessons, love, mindfulness

That Space In Between

mimijk

Home from the hospital – sore, swollen, fat jaw, bruised eye.  You should see the other guy.  Seriously, he looks great because I was asleep during my limited introduction to the doctor’s graceful hands and exacting instruments.   To add insult to injury, I think I even shook his hand before the procedure began.  Of course, I befriended the nurses, anesthesiologist, anesthesiologist’s assistant, nurse’s aide, phlebotomist and the volunteer who checked me in.  My interest is genuine and it also hedges my bets.  To like me is to help me if I need it and I really try to be a likable kind of patient.  Because mostly all I seek is a smile, a little reassurance and a cup of coffee.

I woke up with my heart pounding in my ears – “You’re awake!  You’re alive”  I silently repeated my name and address,  the names of family members, all the dogs we’ve had in proper order.  Wiggled my toes, fingers, nose – all present and accounted for.  Kelly the red-haired nurse who got engaged two weeks ago and is trying to plan a Christmas wedding because she’s also two seconds pregnant, brought me some ginger ale.  Ah, the art of sucking soda through a straw with a fat jaw is a challenge.  Half of the soda stains my hospital gown, the rest manages to make it down my throat.  “Where’s your pain level Mimi?”  About six, I gesture with my fingers.  “Do you want me to give you something for the pain”  Nope – just want to go home and put my head on my pillow.  Someone give Andy permission to get me home.

The reality is that with a circle of angels and a firm belief that there is a God, I got home pretty damn quickly.  And now that I’ve got nowhere I have to be, I will settle in and calm down, spend a bit more time soothing the voices in my head that tend to repeat stressful moments over and over – and over.  The whole thing took far longer than originally planned, for they removed two nodes instead of one.  But it’s all good – between the slices sent to microbiology and the samples to pathology perhaps we’ll know exactly what these interlopers are made of and how we can kick them out of their residences. Hey, maybe there’s a poem about neoplasm in here!   I hesitate to write too much because I still have a lot of meds in my system.  True story – after one of my spinal fusions, I received a call from work with news about a fantastic year-end merit bonus I had received.  Good manners being important to me, I immediately sent off an email to the Chair and the Vice Chair thanking them profusely for such largesse.  A few days later when I was corpus mentos, I read the sent email and it looked in part  like this –  “Thank you so much – I amrealyslpeesed…”  Was I horrified?  Yup – and when I called them they each laughingly assured me they were archiving the messages as a sample of when my writing ability eluded me.  Nice guys.  But I learned the valuable lesson that it is better sometimes to defer your communications until you are able.  In fact, there should be a warning label on medication which says “don’t drive or operate heavy machinery and if you feel inclined to write something, move away from the keyboard and whatever you do, don’t hit ‘send'”.

So before I make a WordPress fool of myself (wouldn’t be the first time, though it may be the first time it was unintended), I’m going to sign off.  Thank you for your prayers, your smiles, your sunshine, your teasing.  Thank you for your good wishes, better friendships and outstanding support.  Thank you for grinning if you find this sounds a little un-Mimi like and still read it all the way through.  And when I can lift a glass of something less benign than ginger ale, I will raise a glass to you.

 

discretion, friendship, humor, life lessons

At The Risk Of Being Redundant, May I Repeat Myself?

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No one living in the States has been able to avoid the news of General Petraeus’ resignation upon the discovery of an affair with his biographer, Paula Broadwell.  This isn’t a post about the implications of his decision, issues of cyber-security and/or who will succeed him at the CIA.

The press and pundits keep referring to this dalliance as ‘an extra-marital affair’.  Isn’t that redundant?  If a person is married and is having an affair, by definition isn’t it ‘extra-marital’?  And typically the reaction to the idea of something being ‘extra’ is usually positive.  “Extra-strength”, “extra-special”, ‘extra-ordinary”.  And from where I sit in this instance “extra-aneous”.  We got it the first time.

This reminds me a little bit of poorly written street signs.  “Caution children at play” – what are we supposed to be warning them about?  “Deer crossing” – who knew deer could read and were limited to crossing roads at appointed places?  Is a “quiet car’ on a train really silent?  I’ve yet to sit in one – snoring is a noise, keys tapping on a keyboard, requests for soda…all emit sounds.  I’m sure you’ve got examples of your own – which I’d love to hear.  I particularly wonder about signs that say “blind person crossing” – how the heck can they see that?   Don’t you think it would behoove us just to keep our eyes out for someone who may have visual limitations?

I wonder if that’s why there are so many possums born dead in the middle of the road.  There are no signs for them.

Somehow though, the idea of duplicative language seems particularly hurtful when it comes to the actions people take outside their marriage.  Just say ‘affair’ and let it go.  It hurts enough – we all get that whatever happened,  occurred outside the marital construct.  I’ve come up with some other messages that would elicit more explicit reactions and understandings. “Smile” – the here and now is pretty good”; Give people the better side of yourself and see what happens”; “Children – if you’re playing, be careful of the monkey bars and stay away from the street”;  “Deer – cross wherever the heck you want, but look out for cars”.  Let’s keep them easy and clear and to the point.  Oops, I guess that was iterative.  I guess this is something we all have to work on.  And I leave you with this one which I think is priceless..

 

 

anxiety, discretion, friendship, inspiration, life lessons, love, mindfulness, motivation, music

So Much Love

mimijk

My in-laws celebrated their 63rd wedding anniversary yesterday.  What do you say about two people who have successfully navigated the tricky waters of marriage and have spent  far more time together in their union than as single people alone?  My mom used to say you never really understood another couple’s relationship unless you slept under their bed.  I have no intention of crawling under anybody’s bed –  least of all my in-laws.  So, I can tell you what I see.  I see two people with a profound abiding love, who memorized the steps to their dance and have never tired of the music.  I see a man who will go to the ends of the earth for the girl he fell for only yesterday, who protects her with a stoic dignity that requires no bluster or bellow.  You don’t cross Pop when it comes to his wife.  And why would you – seeing and celebrating their love teaches more than most life lessons – and without the pain it usually takes to learn something once and for all.  I’m not going to pretend to understand the chapters of their story, the private moments that define their relationship, the challenges they have faced.  I can marvel and applaud their love, their devotion and their unity.

Next Wednesday I go into the hospital so the surgeon can remove one of these little gremlins that has taken up residence in my jaw.  Though we know it’s benign, we still don’t know what they are, or frankly why the hell they’re there.  All will be well.  I know this – it’s not a Pollyanna thing.  I’m not saying that I have no anxiety – that’s just disingenuous.  But as long as we can keep this to one procedure, I’m good.   I’m good because of my small constellation of friends who have been circling me like the angels that they are.  My friends who don’t ask me to let them know what they can do, they just somehow know what to do.  My daughter-in-law who just checks in with a  concern that leaves me weepy (there’s nothing that can make me weepier than my children).  I’m good because of Andy, though sometimes his sensitivity chip is disengaged.  Because even when he misses the cue, or waits for guidance I can’t provide because I’m groping around in the dark, he really loves me very hard.  And in that way, he’s like his dad.  And in that way, I’m a very lucky woman.

In these chilling days with winds that blow in personal moments of uncertainty, we gravitate to those elements that warm us, anchor us to the ground so that we don’t fly away on the breeze.  I look at my in-laws and know that together they are in the most loving of hands.  I look at my husband and I know I am home.

[youtube.com/watch?v=c4D40r-E7yk]
anxiety, discretion, friendship, humor, inspiration, life lessons, love, mindfulness

A Shocking Admission

mimijk

I suppose it’s time that I tell you a long-held secret about me.  It will certainly surprise you;  perhaps you will feel that I have duped you for these past seven months.  I’m truly sorry, but it was something I needed to do.  Now that I am coming forward with this admission, I can only hope you’ll understand.

I am a super hero.

If I could lower my head in shame for having withheld this from you for so long, I would – but then I couldn’t see the screen and would make too many typing errors.  By day, I am a completely unassuming woman, hardly distinguishable from any other woman of a certain age.  In this persona my height serves me well,  for often I can go practically unseen (unless of course someone trips over me).  The Sirs rest comfortably – the house is filled with that mellow glow associated with abundant calm.  I walk gently through life – thankful, secure and full of granola.

As the sun begins its descent in the western sky, my synapses begin to fire with a fervency that is hard to control and my breathing accelerates.  I feel my heart pumping with the  intensity that Olive Oyl used to have when she would see Popeye (yes, I’m dating myself – but work with me).  My thoughts begin to race as if they were competing in a track and field event.  Yes, it is time.  As the moon rises, I become

 I use the nighttime to obsess and worry issues and potential issues to death.  If there are no problems to be slain with my powerful concern, I will create some.  After all, I consider it my duty to keep my little circle of friends and family safe from disconcerting  ‘what ifs’ and ‘could bes’.  I leap from one outcome to the next, determining options and exit strategies, potential routes to happiness and/or obstacles to success.  Have a terrible boss?  I’ll worry that one for you.  Are you feeling flu-ish?  Don’t fret – I’ll jump to pneumonia and back with the expectation that by the time I return you will be feeling much better.  Kids plucking your very last nerve?  Fear not, I can go from worst case diagnoses to kids just being irritating,  before you can say “Mimi, put the DSM-IV down”.  As you can imagine, these midnight meanderings are exhausting.  I am probably the only person who is happy that Daylight Savings Time is over, because the sun rises earlier – shortening my super hero work schedule.   Now you know why I post so early in the morning – it’s my way of capping off another fretful night of slaying imaginary scenarios and plotting the capture of one too many unpleasant outcomes.

As the sun comes up I return to my leggings and sweatshirt, take the Sirs out to commiserate with a tree or two and look up at the sky.  And I become the person you have come to know.  The person who literally thanks God everyday for the gift of the morning.  The person who can’t yet meditate but can take up a small, easy space in this world and delight in doing so.  The one who believes that miracles happen all the time if you keep your eyes open, so why the heck am I worrying anyway?  At the end of the day, we are all contradictions in terms – super hero and every-man/woman;  Broadway star and bathroom lounge lizard; successful professional and frightened sham;  Big Kahuna and one who wipes out before even reaching the wave.

“To be alive, to be able to see, to walk, to have houses, music, paintings – it’s all a miracle.  I have adopted the technique of living life from miracle to miracle.” — Arthur Rubenstein

 

discretion, friendship, inspiration, life lessons, love, mindfulness

Saying ‘Yes’ – Though I Really Don’t Know

mimijk

Midlife – Julie Cadwallader-Staub

This is as far as the light

of my understanding

has carried me:

an October morning

a canoe built by hand

a quiet current

above me the trees are

green and golden

against a cloudy sky

below me the river responds

with perfect reflection

a hundred feet deep

a hundred feet high.

To take a cup of this river

to drink its purple and gray

its golden and green

to see

a bend in the river up ahead

and still

say

yes.

If there is anything that the last few days has taught us, it’s that we can be awed, humbled, frightened, moved and bested.  We can be rendered powerless and exhibit mind-boggling levels of strength and determination.

I can’t help but notice how simply exhausted the trees look.  Everything but their trunks looks bowed and submissive.  I feel like they need the winter.  They need the rest.  As impressively as they stand, as they cradle the birds (who were having an absolute flight fest yesterday as they celebrated the end of the storm and were just heading in droves over to each other’s houses to catch up on the neighborhood news), as they release their leaves, I can feel them sigh.  It’s enough.  Just a little break, a time to be fallow.  It sounds silly – I look at them and my eyes fill.

I had the misfortune of hearing an Ann Coulter sound byte where she was opining about the presidential campaign in the States, and defended her use of the word  ‘retard’ as a descriptive.  My shoulders sagged, my head bent and my breath caught.  Really?  Please don’t lecture me on the finer points of free speech.  I’m tired.  I’ve wearied of the season – the glaring examples of ugliness, the mean-spirited back-and-forth that in my view diminishes any substance to drivel.   Name calling – on Facebook, Twitter – are we done yet?  I am interested and intrigued by opinions other than my own, but honestly I don’t do offensive posturing well.  You lost me with your first epithet, your first invective.  I’m done.  I need the arrival of the fallow season.

I try (emphasis on ‘try’)  to ask myself a few questions before I open my mouth (unless I’m singing of course) – “Is it honest?”  “Is it true?”  “Is it kind?”  Would that these would be the rules that govern our more incendiary social conversations.   Of course I realize that there are many who prefer the in-your-face discussion, voices raised, opinions morphing into facts – bet they don’t like me very much.  I will not engage.

And so the day moves inexorably into its morning, and the sun is still hesitating to make an appearance.  As the clouds cast shadows on the remaining golds and reds and yellows above me, I honor the insistent posture of the trees.  I stand with the people who have lost so much and still rise with some belief and inner conviction that there will be a new season.  And though I am not sure why, I too say ‘yes’.

discretion, friendship, humor, inspiration, life lessons, music

Songs For A Rainy Day

mimijk

I’ve been creating a playlist in my head.  I admit, I do weird things in my head.  It’s entertaining though – thinking of  music that is appropriate for today.  So far, I’ve got

Singin’ In The Rain

Stormy

Raindrops Keep Falling On My Head

Hard Rain Gonna Fall

Windy

It’s Rainin’ Men (it’s not really – at least not here)

I Can’t Stand The Rain

Rainy Days And Mondays

Another Grey Morning

And a friend of mine sent this one, which I had never heard before

[youtube.com/watch?v=VuJ9TNg3API]

Okay, now it’s your turn…

anxiety, discretion, friendship, inspiration, life lessons, love, mindfulness

Coming Home

mimijk

We pulled into the driveway last night, and I exhaled.  Home.  We could hear the Sirs barking – they knew we were here.  Everything was just as we had left it on Wednesday, nothing had changed.  That craving for the familiar finally satisfied.  My anchor, my protection, my comfort.  Home.  I need to be here right now.

I submit that in the medical lexicon, there is no more magnificent adjective than ‘benign’.  The pathologist called me while we were in Hilton Head and said “benign”.  I remember saying “Thank God and thank you so, so much for calling me.”  She liked my hair – I gave her the name of the woman who turns my gray hair into some credible fictional derivative.  I love horses – she told me about an organization where I can volunteer by helping children with disabilities experience the confidence-boosting experience of riding.  Then she added that word I abhor – “but”.   “But, I have never seen anything like this before…sending the sample to a colleague at Georgetown…probably should be removed.”  Do I tell her that I feel a third little coffee klatch of ‘rogue’ cells getting together for a little chat?  Does it matter?  “Benign”, I tell myself and take long deep breaths.  I really should learn how to meditate.  Andy tried to teach me once, suggesting I select a word that I could repeat in my head to help eliminate extraneous thoughts from interrupting my concentration.  I came up with ‘Pepsi Cola’ because I liked the rhythm of the two words together and started to laugh so hard that I ended up rolling on the bed, clutching my stomach and snorting.  Pepsi Cola – really?

At the end of the day, all will be well – I know this – I have no doubts.  It is just that time between now and getting-to-fine that makes me want to cocoon, and feel the safety of my familiar.  Knowing how perfect the coffee will be each morning, which way to turn the kitchen faucet so it doesn’t drip, sharing my kitchen chair with Teddy and rubbing Archie’s tummy with my foot.  Sunday crossword puzzles and fuzzy socks.  Football.  A storm coming in (actually a storm coming in wherever you may live on the East Coast of the U.S.) and power outages expected.  I am ever hopeful that our lights will stay on this time, even though our history this year suggests otherwise.

When I walked the Sirs early this morning, the silence was too loud not to notice.  A few crickets insisted on continuing their conversation; other than that –  not even a whisper on the wind.  A leaf fell on the asphalt.  I heard everything acutely, having so few sounds to identify.  An hour and a half later and the wind is beginning to wake, each bend of the trees an acknowledgement perhaps of what is about to come.  ‘Get ready’, the air muses,  ‘for change is always on the wing’.  And despite the uncertainty, I challenge the breeze – for it is benign.

discretion, friendship, inspiration, life lessons, love, mindfulness, music, parenting

A Magical Moment

mimijk

I hesitated to post this video – primarily because so many people may have viewed it already.  Yet the more who view it the better – for the way it makes you feel your heart beating,  for the glimpse of beauty for which language has yet to adequately evolve, for the chance to feel that you are witnessing a magical moment.  Happy Friday all..

[youtube.com/watch?v=QX-xToQI34I]
discretion, friendship, inspiration, life lessons, mindfulness, motivation

‘What Becomes A Legend Most’

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It’s isn’t Janet Jackson in a full length mink coat, of that I’m sure.  I think the tag line is terrific – just misplaced.

We can all think of legendary people and moments for which books are written, songs are penned, clichés are born.  And then there are the everyday legends who may have no famous (or infamous) public persona, but impact our days, change our thinking, inform our choices and enrich our hearts.

There are people in my past who are legends in my memory.  My family is legendary – in more ways than one can define the adjective.  And then there are those who come into your days and you’d be an idiot not to recognize the karmic element of your meeting.  So it was when I met Chris.  He wouldn’t agree with me, he would argue that none of it is a big deal and perhaps when our time together is over, I will quickly recede from his memory.  That’s cool – he is forever etched in mine.  Meet Chris –

I began training with Chris a little over a year ago.  Given some of my physical limitations, I had major trepidation about going to the gym.  Chronic pain is well, a pain – long scars that extend from the neck down to places that haven’t seen the light of day in years, makes ‘flexibility’ a dirty word.  Tendons, fascia, ligaments that are just generally ornery – and that’s on a good day.  My body and soul are truly yin and yang.  I was afraid that at the least, I wouldn’t accomplish anything, and at worst I would end up doing some further damage to myself,  because at core I am still competitive and will ‘play hurt’.

Chris lost his leg a couple of years ago.  He was riding his motorcycle and was struck by a drunk driver.  I’m not going into the specifics of his accident – it was gory and awful and with or without hindsight, life-altering.  Chris was a trainer before the accident; he’s a trainer now.  He is an avid competitor – it seems that he’s in a marathon or triathlon every other week.  He hears a lot of praise when he’s pushing the envelope,  and deserves all of it.  But to me, he deserves it because he held on to his heart throughout this ordeal, he didn’t compromise on his life and he didn’t lose the ability to laugh.  He adores his wife, relishes his friendships and family and knows how to have a good time.  He still has to deal with the frustration that comes with parts that fail, waiting for insurance companies to do what they’re supposed to do, having to consider what most of us don’t even think about at all.  He still has to deal with the ghosts that dance in his head (even though he doesn’t think anyone knows about them) and get up every morning and dare the dawn to get in his way. And let me tell you, the morning steps aside.  As it should.

Chris’ will, his expectations of himself, his laugh…it’s the stuff of good character.  The way his eyes betray him when he thinks someone is in pain, his sense of commitment, his frustrations…it’s the stuff that makes him human.  The combination of heart and head, determination and focus, reality and hope…that’s the stuff of everyday legends.

discretion, friendship, humor, inspiration, life lessons, love, mindfulness, motivation, training

The Family You Have, The Family You Choose

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“Call it a clan, call it a network, call it a tribe, call it a family:  whatever you call it, whoever you are, you need one.” — Jane Howard

There are all sorts of families – the ones that we are magically born into or become a part of; the families that we build one person, pet, ritual at a time; the families of friends that may morph and change with the understanding that these connections are in many ways as binding as any others.  Within the context of this forum in which we meet and discover virtual understandings and ‘aha’ moments, we are defining a new family.  I think of many people in this community who I feel I know and love as members of my family too.  People who are always there to support me when I write through my neurotic moments, laugh along with my silliness, commiserate when life becomes complicated or evocative of times that are painful to recount.  Friends who I fret about and delight in, inspire me with their incredible talents, and celebrate with head-shaking wonder at the magic that they create regularly.

So it is within this uniquely bound family that I find myself accepting the Family Of Bloggers Award.  I love the implication of this honor, for it suggests that we are in many ways a family of choice.  We are together because we choose to be, minus some of the drama and trauma that come from nuclear units that are perhaps more complicated, defined by far different memories of shared history.

David Kanigan (DavidKanigan.com)  who writes the blog titled Lead.Learn.Live and Laurie Barkman who authors PassionatePerformance.wordpress.com both nominated me for this award this week.  David has a following that is remarkable in both its size, intelligence and loyalty.  When I started following his blog, I hoped to come close to the quality, provocative writing and thoughtful commentary that his writing reflects all the time.  I still don’t know how he does it, finding references, writers, images, videos that invite and engross the reader.  He is incredibly self-effacing, and he is shaking his head as he reads this not able to admit that all of this is true.  But I would bet an awful lot of money (if I had it, which I don’t, so I feel good about placing the bet) that there are many, many, many who agree with my summary.  I have followed him from the first day I came to WordPress and I will follow him should the time come when I no longer post..

My line of work and Laurie’s closely parallel each other.  The primary and striking difference is that she manages to imbue the topic of performance management and leadership with practical wisdom and a passion that is palpable.  As some of you may know from earlier posts, I have a love-hate relationship with this topic – perhaps because I’ve been training and speaking about these topics for so long.  But I return to Laurie time after time because her advice is wise and practical, her commitment sincere and passionate and the results always on point and well-considered.  As much as I believe that there is nothing new under the sun because of a general reluctance to deal with the discomfort of change, Laurie gently encourages me to reconsider and remember what I loved about training and development.

So, I thank them both and embrace the metaphor that I am part of their family, as they are part of mine.  I’d do the Sally Fields thing, but David would tease me – even though in my head I’m thinking “you like me, you really like me!”  As inspirational blogs go, I have many to nominate and feel certain that I would inadvertently miss some.  Which is why I am going to nominate all the people who are kind enough to read my posts each day, comment each day and travel on the karma truck through all sorts of topography.  Thank you for being part of my virtual family.  Thank you for embracing me from the moment I started seven months ago and for encouraging me to keep the gas tank full and ready to roll.