Heroes Deserve a Life, too

“Mom, what should I do?”  “Honey, can you?”   “Won’t you?” “Will you?”

Hear those a lot?  Are you famous for carrying the load, for bearing the burdens of others?  Has it become too much to bear?

Recently I was diagnosed with an illness.  The doctor looked me straight in the eye after a long conversation and said, “You need to take this seriously and take care of yourself.  Put yourself first.”  Okay.  Sounds easy enough.  I went home, thought about it, and realized I don’t know how.  I have spent so long putting everyone else’s needs first, that I no longer know how to put me at the head of the line.  It gives me a total case of the guilts.  It’s not what you do, go first, because you’re the mom, the wife, the leader, the friend…. you give of yourself.  That’s what I was raised to do.  However, where is the line?  The line that when you cross it, you go from giving to self-sacrificing too much?

The line comes when you realize, as I have, that if you give much more you will totally disappear.  The you, you remember will cease to exist and you will only be the drone that does for others, not out of love, but out of habit.  At that point, the giving doesn’t mean a darn thing.  It routine, no longer generous, and loving.

I heard a phrase yesterday, “Breathe and know you are more than you think you are”.  I hope that resonates with you as it did with me.  Stop.  Take a deep breath and think about who you are, what you need.  It really is okay to be someone other than the person that fixes problems.  Now is the perfect time to pull your head out of the dirt it’s buried in, look around, and live the life you imagined for yourself.

What will all those people do?  Those people that need you, how will they survive?  Trust me.  They will live.  Now, I’m not telling you to go on a spending spree with you last $100, but a walk around Barnes and Noble with a good coffee isn’t going to kill anyone.  That couple of hours you take for yourself, may just make you more able to help others, or at least may keep you from banging your head against the wall the next time someone says, “But honey….  I need…….”

You are a hero. Believe it or not, heroes deserve a life.  Think big, dream big, and live it.  Heroes deserve to be happy, too.

Go Ahead and Let Go

When is it time to admit failure and let go?  There comes a point in ever fight that you have to decide if it’s worth it.  It’s a breaking point.  We all have them.  When it comes, we make a simple choice… dig in for the long haul or let go.  Letting go … it has a bad rap.  When we think of the titans of industry, we think of people that never gave up; that persevered through all adversity.  We celebrate their steadfastness and it’s after them we model ourselves.

However, there is a difference between giving up and letting go.  Semantics you say?  Truly not.  Giving up lends to just dropping a goal and walking away, shoulders slumped and head bowed.  Letting go is giving your best and realizing that what you’ve reached for is not right for you or in your best interest.  Letting go means you’ve given it all you have and frankly, it may not have been a good choice from the onset.

“We must be willing to let go of the life we have planned, so as to accept the life that is waiting for us”~ Joseph Campbell

What part of your life are you hindering by clinging to a lost cause?  Yes, it ‘s hard.  It’s painful.  It’s sucks.  Nevertheless, what waits for you beyond that mountain of regret?  What level of success can be achieved by the simple act of liberation?  Yes, liberation.  Release your grip on what is holding you back.  It’s time to be brutally frank.  Look in the mirror and face what’s in your life that holds you prisoner.  Haven’t you lived in misery long enough?  How many times will you start the day by opening your eyes, and heaving a sigh because it’s time to face another day?  Let go of what keeps you from moving forward.

Easier said than done?  Well, no kidding.  If it were easy, you’d have already done it.  Letting go equals change.  Change equals fear.  Fear means stagnation, and that leads to misery.  Why would you make a choice for a miserable life?  Let go.  Stop being a wuss.  Let go.

The future is yours to explore.  Let go.

Another Day Off

Is that how you view Labor Day?  The last big hurrah of summer?  Many do and in truth, there’s nothing evil about it.  Nevertheless, where did Labor Day come from?  Many pundits will say our day off to barbecue and lounge springs forth from an evil labor union plot.  To that, most give a yawn, a shrug and flip their steaks.

But seriously, what is Labor Day?  Indeed, it comes from men who were parts of a union.  According to the US Government site, Labor Day is over 100 years old and was the brain child of either Peter J. McGuire, general secretary of the Brotherhood of Carpenters and Joiners and a cofounder of the American Federation of Labor or Matthew Maguire, a machinist. Recent research seems to support the contention that Matthew Maguire, later the secretary of Local 344 of the International Association of Machinists in Paterson, N.J., proposed the holiday in 1882 while serving as secretary of the Central Labor Union in New York.  What we do know is that the first Labor Day holiday was celebrated on Tuesday, September 5, 1882, in New York City, in accordance with the plans of the Central Labor Union. The Central Labor Union held its second Labor Day holiday just a year later, on September 5, 1883.  It was made official by Congress on June 28^th of 1894, declaring the first Monday in September “Labor Day” and that the form that the observance and celebration of Labor Day should take were outlined in the first proposal of the holiday — a street parade to exhibit to the public “the strength and esprit de corps of the trade and labor organizations” of the community, followed by a festival for the recreation and amusement of the workers and their families.

Back to my question, what is Labor Day?  Regardless of Unions, and history Labor Day it is a celebration of the average American worker.  Regardless of collar color, blue, periwinkle, or white, we join together to raise a glass to hard work.  Yes, it’s appropriate to include all.  Just ask the Discovery Channel’s, Mike Rowe, of Dirty Jobs fame. It was two years ago this weekend that he launched his website and foundation, mikeroweWORKS,  (www.mikeroweworks.com) which is, to quote, “Like Dirty Jobs, its purpose is to make a fun, but deliberate, case for skilled labor, and challenge the notion that a four-year degree is the only path to a worthwhile career. The traditional notions of Hard Work are under siege. Hollywood gives us one-dimensional stereotypes and American Idols. Madison Avenue tells us every few minutes that happiness and leisure go hand in hand. And Silicon Valley has provided a shiny new toolbox that has no need for shovels or hammers. As manufacturing jobs vanish into thin air, we tell our kids that the toll on the road to prosperity is nothing short of a four-year degree, and now, we’ve become so accustomed to seeing manual labor portrayed as drudgery, that the sight of people working their butts off while actually enjoying themselves is almost confusing. Unfortunately, in redefining the meaning of a “good job,” we’ve simultaneously marginalized the very occupations that make polite society possible, and the fallout from this nonsense is serious.”

Good for Mr. Rowe.  We are so caught up in playing, in having fun that we forget the basics of hard work. Stop for one minute and think of all those folks in the trades, that if you didn’t know them, your life would be miserable.  Your auto mechanic, air conditioner repairman, pool cleaner, garbage man, carpenters, brick layers, highway construction, furniture craftsman, farmers, fishermen, and ranchers….. have you ever thought about where all your “stuff” comes from?  Did the furniture fairy suddenly whip up that Lazy boy you’re lounging in or was it put together by a craftsman and his machine?  Your groceries?  That beef didn’t magically appear shrink wrapped in the case; many hands worked long hours to get your steak to your grill. The very paper on which you write your grocery list… how many swamp loggers cut, hauled, and milled how many trees to put that scrap of paper in your hand?

Where did Labor Day come from?  It comes from the back-breaking, sweat on the brow labor of millions of men and women without whom…….  well…… you wouldn’t be having this nice barbecue, would you?

Thank you to all who labor.  For your expertise, you’re entrepreneurial spirits and your strength.  We lift our glasses to you!  Happy Labor Day!

How Still the Dark

Just a piece of creative writing……

“Breathe….. slowly…. deep steady breaths..”  She repeated those words in her head over and over.  Her eyes slowly opened and she scanned the darkness.  The bright red numbers on the clock glared back at her, 2:53.. 2:54…. 2:55…. damn it all. Another night spent staring out into the darkness, sleep illusive.  She listened.  One expects the dark to be peaceful, quiet.  She could hear the soft snore of her sleeping husband and the steady beating of fan blades causing a gentle swirl of air.

Then there was the shouting.  The loud, abrasive voices raised in anger, revealing deep angst and pain. “Get up you lazy bitch” one shouted.  “Leave her alone, she needs to rest for work” screamed the other.  The screaming deteriorates into nonsensical gibberish.  She grips the blankets and gazes off into the darkness, “I wish they would just stop fighting. I can’t sleep and they won’t let me rest”, she moaned.  It always happened that way.  As soon as she would try to sleep, the group of them would begin to raise hell. Do this, do that… threats, intimidation, badgering, it was ceaseless.  She should call the police, someone with some authority would quiet them down.  But no, “don’t want to make it worse” she thought, the police wouldn’t understand because the shouting would stop the minute they arrived.

“Are you that stupid?”  Came the shout.  Then more quietly, “You know, you could get up, dress, take the van and he’d never know.  You’d be gone and there would be no more drama.”  Peace and quiet, how nice would that be for a change?  She could run away, end all the pain, and find a new place to be… a quieter place. True peace and tranquility.  However, what if the shouting was there, too?  Could the voices follow her even in death?  Would she lie in her resting place, only to be cursed by the incessant babbling of disapproval?

Now not only was she wide-awake, but she was paralyzed with fear.   What if they found her again, no matter how careful she was to hide?  They would hound her even more, their nastiness harassing her no matter where she went.  The fears circled her mind, around and around until she got out of bed and fearfully crept to the cabinet to find a remedy to her sleeplessness.  Finally, an hour later, she had drifted into a fitful sleep.

The next morning, her husband asked,, “you had another bad night last night, didn’t you?”

“The neighbors kept me up again”

“Honey, you know perfectly well our nearest neighbors are a half a mile away.”

“Oh…yes… that’s right.”

“Yes, that’s right”, she mumbled to herself. The voices would indeed never let her go, would hound her past the last vestige of sanity.  On the other hand, had they already?

What Will Be Lost the Day You Die?

“Freedom has its life in the hearts, the actions, the spirit of men and so it must be daily earned and refreshed – else like a flower cut from its life-giving roots, it will wither and die”.

~Dwight D. Eisenhower

What will be lost the day you die?  Did you know: Thomas Jefferson died on July 4th, 1826 (the 50th anniversary of the Declaration of Independence) at age 83, on this is the same day, former President John Adams also died with Jefferson preceding Adams in death, by a few hours.  What words can be applied to Jefferson and Adams?  Founders, great thinkers, inventor, philosophers, revolutionaries, fearless, Presidents, dignitaries, the list is close to endless.

What words will be applied to you during the days after your death?  Understandably, not all of us can write a document that rivals the Declaration of Independence or become President of the United States.  Nevertheless, we are all capable of making an affirmative mark on the world with our very presence.

Have you seen the television commercial that shows a young man waiting on a train platform?  He spies a lovely young lady on the train, uses his super phone to change his ticket in order to get on the train to meet her.  During the commercial we see reverse order flashes of their unborn child becoming the 57^th POTUS.

What will you leave behind?  For what will you be remembered and honored?  My father was an elementary school teacher and lived what many would consider a routine, customary life.  However, when my father passed away in 2007, people attend his funeral from his very first 4^th grade class conducted in the mid 1950’s, who wanted to honor the man who figured so significantly in their lives.  When I occasionally visit my hometown, I am always greeted by folks who tell me that my dad taught them how to read, coached them in various sports and taught them how to be a better person.  I cheerfully reply, “Me too!”  Nevertheless, how wonderful that this humble, quiet man impacted more people than he could imagine

I ask again, what will you leave behind?  Don’t imagine that there is nothing for you just because you live a commonplace life.  If that occurs to you, please remember Robert Fusmer, an ordinary man, who left extraordinary impressions.  You are important!  You influence people every day, what impression do you leave behind?  The love you give.  The generosity of spirit.  The values you teach your children.  The kindness to your neighbors.

On this 4^th of July, that is what we need to remember; that each of us is great.  Our very existence perpetuates the ideals of Jefferson, Adams, Washington, and their compatriots.  American’s living their daily lives; working, loving, helping.  In the annals of the world, we are still a young country, but there is a reason we are a great country, a generous, caring country… it’s in our DNA.  We are all descendents of these great men and through us their principles live.

You are as great as our founding fathers.  Pass on your values, teach your children how wonderful it is to be an American.  Grill the steaks, set off the fireworks, and let freedom ring!  Your legacy will live on in the very fabric of our grand country!

“You have to love a nation that celebrates its independence every July 4, not with a parade of guns, tanks, and soldiers who file by the White House in a show of strength and muscle, but with family picnics where kids throw Frisbees, the potato salad gets iffy, and the flies die from happiness.  You may think you have overeaten, but it is patriotism.” ~Erma Bombeck

You’re the Village Idiot

What happens when one day you wake up and discover you’re the Village Idiot?  Don’t give me that “what ‘choo talkin’ bout, Willis?” look.  Here’s the scenario:  You’ve been down and disconsolate for days.  Nothing is going right.  You’re unemployed (or under-employed).  You’re eating too much, drinking too much.  Unhappy.  Frumpy and dumpy…get it?  Feeling incredibly sorry for yourself.  People ask you how you are and you answer, “hanging in there”.  Waahhhhhh.  You go to bed, you toss and turn, sleep fitfully, have nightmares, wake up each morning feeling like someone slapped you in the head all night with a wet towel.

Then one morning you wake up…circumstances have not changed, but somehow, deep in your brain that part of you that made you success in the first place, has reared it’s head.

The role of the big frontal lobes, which are part chief executive officers, part directors of voluntary movement.  They are responsible for ambition and drive, strategic planning, and control of emotional expression. –Elizabeth Reid, MD

Notice something?  The part of the brain that controls ambition/drive also controls emotional expression.  I’m no scientist certainly, but that appears to be a duh-huh moment.  Your own brain is telling you that you are behaving like the Village Idiot, to get off your butt and stop whining.  That’s why so many motivational speakers harp endlessly on positive thinking.  Positive thought reinforces your motivation and drive because they come from the same region of the brain.

Ever watched a zombie movie? Masses of the un-dead wandering around, looking like they’ve been hit by the entire mass transit system of LA, mumbling rudely about eating your brain.  Regardless, if we’re not careful that is exactly what we become.  One of the endless mobs lost in a sea of misery.  I’m stating the obvious but, life is not easy; disappearing jobs, obliterated savings, no one able to lend a hand…it’s hard out there.  Then before you know it, you become a zombie, wandering aimlessly in a fog of anguish, howling for the one thing that can change your situation…..a brain.  It always comes back to the brain.

That brings us full circle, you’ve realized that the only thing that can change your circumstances is you.  That’s the day you wake up and realize you’re the Village Idiot…rather like Dorothy, you had the capability all along to change your state of affairs.  Oh, what the heck let’s go for the movie reference trifecta…the force flows through you and around you….it is within your power to change your life.

No.  One cannot just snap their fingers and stop the foreclosure on their home.  Having the ability to take control doesn’t make it magical or instantaneous, and dire things may still happen.  However, if you don’t take control and break the cycle now, dreadful things will never stop happening.  It’s just like your nightmares.  At some point, you wake up.  The residual anxiety may plague you throughout the day, but you know the dream itself is over and the day brings a fresh start.

Don’t retreat to the reptilian part of the brain, that section that guards our fight/flight responses.  Push out to the frontal lobe, take control of your situation, and let your ambitions lead you to a better place.  Think of an idea, a concept then go out and pitch it to someone who has shown some frontal lobe talents of their own.  Don’t ball up in the corner, fight your way out!  Look to see where the throngs of zombies are headed and GO THE OTHER WAY!  The Village Idiot is the one that just stands there and screams while the zombies slowly shuffle toward him.  You on the other hand are about to make the choice to get up, gesture rudely to the un-dead, and run like heck in the opposite direction.  Make your own way, as it were.  Oh, one bit of advice.  When you’re choosing your new destination, don’t choose Washington, DC.  They’ve had brain-eating zombies there for 2 centuries, contained only by the confusion of the Beltway.  (Sorry…couldn’t resist)

Are you up yet?  Stopped mumbling?  Good.  Now for goodness sakes, go take a shower and scrub that frontal lobe.  You’re going to need some fresh ideas.

By the way, I’d love to know what you come up with….keep me in the loop; leave a comment here and let me know how you stop being the Village Idiot.

When Desperation Meets Faith

Don’t care who you are, what you do or where you live; you’ve been there.  You’ve sat on the edge of your bed, staring out into space, casting around wildly for answers; looking for emotional, even physical relief from the anxieties of life.  Seeing no way out of the predicament you start considering the stupid things, when that still, small voice whispers in your ear.  You’re not even sure what was said, you just know that somehow, somewhere an answer will come and then suddenly there you are…..the place where desperation meets faith.

It’s different for everyone because faith means various things to people.  For me I have a deep, unshakable, abiding faith in God and his only begotten son, Jesus.  I don’t expect an easy road, I don’t expect everything to work out just the way I have envisioned, but I do have confidence that if I am faithful then things will work out the way He believes is best for me.  Sometimes lessons are learned, sometimes miracles are performed, and sometimes I get to be the vehicle for someone else to receive a blessing.  Regardless, I trust in the Lord’s judgment fully and completely.

Recently I asked this question on Facebook and Twitter: “What happens when desperation meets faith?” and I got a couple of interesting answers.  One was, “Desperation loses”, interesting, succinct and born of experience.  The other was very intriguing, “God doesn’t respond to our desperation, He responds to our faith”.  That one really struck a chord in me.  How often to we cry out in despair when we should be reaching out with devotion?

Regardless of what you accept as true, the bottom line is that we each experience moments where our personal viewpoints are challenged, when right and wrong don’t matter as much as making the pain stop; that’s the point when we must decide who we really are, what we believe in and how are we will push through the crisis.

There are definitions and then there are definitions.  Define a few words for me: hope; purpose; determination; commitment; and faith.  You hear those words tossed around a lot in the social media, everyone trying to sound profound and wise.  However, if you’re anything like me (scary I know) then you must ask yourself do these pundits know whereof they speak?  Have you ever read something that people are heralding as profound, yet when you read it, you have no clue what the heck they’re talking about?  Oh, man up and confess.  I have.  At first you look at it like the RCA Victor dog, then you think “wow, that must be deep cause I have no idea what the crap that means”, then it becomes, “wow, I must be an idiot cause I have no idea what the crap that means”, then it morphs into, “wow, that writer is full of crap cause that really doesn’t mean diddly squat.” Happens to me all the time when I read quotes from Deepak Chopra.  I’m sure he’s a great guy and obviously profound, but what the heck he’s talking about half the time, I have no idea!

Regardless, this is a  time for personal definition.  What is your purpose this year?  Where do you want to go, what do you want to do, to what will you commit yourself wholly and completely?  From where will your hope come, what will you put your faith in and where can your determination take you?  Don’t ask yourself, “What will make me happy?” Seriously, don’t worry about that because if you achieve it, then what?  Look for something else?  Too much to handle.  No, ask yourself what makes sense in your world, what resonates in your gut as true and good?  Thought of something, didn’t you?  Good, now go get it.

No, I’m not saying it will be easy, I’m saying that it’s part of who we are; we are born to be explorers, adventurers, seekers, and teachers.  We are born not to “just make it through life” but to find our path and live it, searching out the good, learning from the bad and passing on the wisdom we’ve gained.  We are defined by the effect we have on others.  Frankly, no one cares how you view yourself, they care how you change their world.

So, I ask you again…..what happens when your desperation meets faith?  Do you let the desperation define you or do you reach back into your soul, your heart, your gut and refocus your purpose, trample that desperation with your determination, allow hope to light the dark corners of your mind, and commit your energies anew to accomplishing your ambitions?  What does it take to do all that?  Faith.  That’s why it always comes full circle.  Desperation has to meet faith, it’s the only way to begin, maintain or even finish.

Go ahead.  Move a mountain.  I dare you.

The Wind Up, the Pitch….the Hit?

The Wind Up, the Pitch…..the Hit?

I may be jumping the gun, but has anyone noticed that we’re about to end a decade?  We are entering 2010, preparing to spend the next 12 months closing the first decade of the 21^st century.  OK, I’ll wait while you sit down cause it is a big one to swallow.  So?  What have you accomplished in the 21^st century (don’t you hear that big voiced, echo effect…. probably narrated by Mike Rowe, when “21^st century” is uttered?)

Seriously. I’ve been thinking about what’s happened since “Y 2-K”.  I was on the air at a radio station in North Carolina in those days.  Loved that job, but then I have always loved radio.  Then came 9-11.  I was on the air then, too.  (Come to think about it I have been on the air for the Challenger crash, the Libya bombing, 9-11, and many more national incidences than I care to think about.)

Sorry, I digress.  There has been a lot of water under the bridge since January 1, 2000; some good, some bad.  It’s the same for everyone.  Nevertheless, what have you accomplished?  Each December we start thinking about what the New Year will bring.  I don’t like resolutions.  Too reminiscent of diets gone by the wayside.  However, I do like new beginnings; I like determination and I love ambitions.  By nature, I am an ambitious person.  Oddly enough, not by choice.  It’s seems to be hard-wired in my DNA.  Had a conversation not long ago with a dear friend of mine about the need to succeed.  My friend and I are very different in some ways.  She’s calm and logical.  I’m edgy and an idealist.  But we have the same sense of humor and an identical need to be the best at whatever we’re doing.  It’s not about money (although we like it a lot), it’s not about recognition, it’s simply about being the best, facing new challenges, and conquering them.

That’s how I am approaching 2010, feeling very edgy, even sporty.  As if I’m hovering on the verge of a monumental discovery; a change that will shape the rest of my life.  We all feel like at certain periods in our lives; when we graduate from high school or from college; when we get married, have children, etc.  However, at 48 years old, I’m beyond the virgin territory aspects of life, nor am I a daydreamer.   As I sit here watching Discovery Channel’s “Deadliest Catch”, I am fraught with fishing analogies.  At the end of this year, I went fishing in a very large business pond; the bait was excellent, but sometimes even with quality lures fish don’t bite.  However, a skilled fisherman knows how to coax the record catches to his hook.  Now, after weeks of playing the line, the next 30 days will reveal my true skills.  Baiting, finding the sweet fishing hole, and hooking the prey are worthless if you can’t land the objective.

Therefore, for me the year will begin with the biggest push of my life.  My instincts tell me that the adventure of a lifetime is on the horizon; my professional world is about to change and yet, the hardest work of my life is in front of me.  My DNA is kicking in, I know I will be the best….it’s what I do.  It sounds pompous, and I don’t mean it to; it’s just the reality of who I am.  How does the fisherman communicate to the fish his mastery of the situation?  Determination, the resolute pursuit of an objective, and complete dedication to the task…… that’s how objectives are completed.

Can you and I do mean Can You, begin 2010 with that gut feeling?  The best is at your fingertips?  Can you have the sheer force of will to make it happen?

“The secret to a rich life is to have more beginnings than endings.” ~Dave Weinbaum

Bring it on 2010!   Have a perfect beginning.

Coniferous Trees, Christmas Lights and ‘Colorful’ Language

The Dudley Tree Farm was Christmas central for a little girl, practically the North Pole sans elves.  Each year in early December, we would venture the 7 or so miles up the road to a small farm in our rural upstate New York town that would be populated with dozens and dozens of fresh smelling evergreens.  All shapes and sizes, long needle, short needle, the crooked, the straight, the tall and thin, the stumpy and fat; we would wander from tree to tree, up one row and down the next in search of the perfect fit.  Parental discussions ensued, but I paid them no heed.  I was in heaven.  Wandering in and among the towering (Okay, I was 4 feet tall so it was proportional towering, but it worked for me at the time!) coniferous trees imagining the ornament and light laden results.

Finally, the argument…sorry…the discussion ended.  My father triumphant once again, would look at me and say, “All right Honey, which one do you think?”  I would run to the largest Pseudotsuga menziesii (Douglas-fir) I could find; my mother would gasp, my father would chuckle and call to Mr. Dudley “We’ve found the one she wants”.  My mother would sigh.  She would continue to sigh as it was carried, purchased, stuffed in the trunk, and tied in the trunk, mumbling that it would fall out on the road on the way home “then what will you have?”  My father’s more “colorful” vocabulary would begin quietly as he crammed the spectacular 7 foot specimen in the trunk of the big, black 1965 Dodge sedan, the one that boasted a thin red stripe the length of the vehicle as a passing nod to the sporty car a family man was now denied.  Contrary to my mothers dire predictions we never lost a tree on the road, although I would ride all the way home on my knees, facing backwards on the backseat terror-stricken my dark green treasure would escape the bonds of twine that secured it in the trunk.

Arriving home, the real entertainment would begin.  My mother, who was fastidious, would rush up the hill to “arrange” the house for it’s new arrival as if it were the honored guest at a banquet.  My father’s glee would fade as he struggled to get the tree out of its twine solitary confinement.  Then came the trimming, the pounding, the affixing of the base, all accompanied by the commiserate swear words.  The longer it took, the more prolific and louder the profanities would become.  At some point, cowardice would become the better part of valor and I would flee up the path to the house to announce, “Dad’s having a fit!”  My mother would snort, “of course he is, the tree’s too big”.  Too big?  How can a Christmas tree be too big?  Nah.  Can’t be it.

At last, the long-awaited pine trophy would make the long walk up the hill, through the front door and take it’s place in the living room.  Where the real cussing would begin because it would lean, fall over; tip drunkenly to one side and in the end would once again be trussed more tightly than the holiday turkey, to the window casements it stood between.  Years later, I would begin to understand the phrase “poking the bear” but at the time I couldn’t grasp why my mother would wait until the entire process was over and then slyly say, “Do you think it’s best there or should it go over by the stairs?”  Dad’s predicted response was, “It damn well better be good because the ##@%& thing’s not moving.  Hell, if we water it enough we might be able to use it next year, too”.

I would attempt to sit quietly on the sofa as the strands of lights were applied.  More profanity and then the scratching.  Yes, Dad was allergic to pine trees, the more he handled the sticky fir the redder and more swollen his hands would become.  To my shame, it was years later that I really grasped the sacrifices that parents make for their children, but at the time I just kept wondering, “why doesn’t he wear gloves?”  Finally, the lights and garland were on, and I could join in with the adornment with ornaments.  My father didn’t do ornaments.  That was too girly.  However, there were about half a dozen ornaments that when found in the boxes, only he was allowed to hang.  These were the dangling treasures that his parents had placed on their trees in years past, and passed to him as he left home to begin his own family traditions.  They seemed ancient and fragile.  Remember, this was the mid 60’s, a time of shiny round balls and large bright bulbs.  Think of Lucy on “A Charlie Brown Christmas”, “Get the biggest, shiniest aluminum Christmas tree you can find”.  To see my father reverently handle these delicate decorations shaped as musical instruments, clowns, churches, and horns of plenty was almost an anathema to the times.  These ornaments came to represent Christmas to me.  I was born with asthma and was always one of those children that caught every bug and virus that wafted past me.  To this day, if I don’t get bronchitis at least twice a year, then I feel like something’s missing.  Anyway, it never failed that I got some sort of respiratory infection at Christmas time, so if you ask me what my most pronounced Christmas memories are, I would tell you it was a “sideways Christmas tree”.  I would lie on the couch, staring at the glimmering symbol of yuletide joy drifting in and out of fevered sleep with vague recognitions of my mother’s cool hand on my forehead and my father’s concerned frown from the doorway.  During those times, I vividly recall watching the light dance on one of my father’s treasured antiques.  It was a vivid metallic pink French horn with delicate flowers painted on the wide bell of the instrument.  I would concentrate on that ornament and will myself to feel better; it literally became my talisman of Christmas spirit.

In 2007, my Dad passed away.  I inherited those ornaments.  When we put up our tree, my grandchildren help me to hang ornaments (my husband doesn’t do ornaments…they’re too girly).  When we find those precious, antiques the kids call me because they know only Grandma hangs them.  They stare transfixed as I carefully place each one on the tree, relating memories of my parents and childhood as I work.  Right now, as I type I’m watching that very pink metallic French horn, as the twinkling lights sparkle and dance on it’s surface.  I miss my Dad more than I can tell you, but that small, simple antique still holds all the magic, all the joys, and all the memories of a wonderful childhood.

It’s Christmas.  A time of magic, dreams and joyousness.  Before you get swept up in the hustle and bustle, go make some memories that will carry your family through their lives.  That will be passed down through the generations.  Your legacy will be created now.

Will You Listen, Mr. Rowe?

We all carry someone’s words in our heart.  Something your Dad said to you at that first baseball game; a favorite teacher with a properly placed word of encouragement; a coach who lifted you up at just the right moment; the profound affect of simple verbal bolstering cannot be under estimated.

Many years ago, I was working as a program director and morning show host at a radio station.  My on air partner and I were breaking some new ground, and as in most things, when you break down barriers some folks will love it, some….well, they’ll send hate mail.  After all, what Elbert Hubbard said is true, “To avoid criticism, do nothing, say nothing, and be nothing”.

My partner came in one morning with the following scripture:

“I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.”  (Jeremiah 29:11)

It became the word that we carried with us and I still hold on to its encouragement to this day.  Whatever your stand on faith, for me the thought that the creator of the universe had made a personal plan for little, insignificant me was incredible, simply extraordinary!

However, this post is not about scripture; it is about words that change your life.  Are you aware of what you say and the effect it has on others?  One word can lift up or tear down your neighbor, spouse, co-worker, employee or the stranger on the street.

Words can make you number one or they can ruin your career.  A few years ago, I was blessed to receive an industry award for my daily radio performances.  Words are my friends; they have helped me to achieve many, many goals.

Words however are of no consequence if not combined with work.  It’s rather like faith; works are the fruit of faith.  You need the two combined to make things come to pass.

A great example of that word/work combination is the TV reality show, Dirty Jobs with Mike Rowe aired on the Discovery Channel.  It was born out of a series of features on a daily TV news magazine in San Francisco, where Mike Rowe was a host; which he called, “Somebody’s Got To Do It”. (Check out this one with the naked cook! http://tiny.cc/pq7Fb)

Rowe had a good idea, and a wonderful command of language…. so what?  Words without work, after all.  A few years ago, he took his idea to Discovery Channel, pitched himself as “the Discovery Guy” who could travel and narrate.  They liked the idea, but wanted to “introduce” him to the audience, so he re-pitched them on his “Somebody’s Got To Do It” concept.  Apparently, Discovery Channel heard the conviction and abilities in his voice because on the road he went with a small crew.  That was five years and over 250 Dirty Jobs ago.  Words and work combined.  According to www.tvbythenumbers.com, Dirty Jobs with Mike Rowe, is the #1 non-sports, cable program in its time slot.

“Whenever you see a successful business, someone once made a courageous decision.” -Peter Drucker

To realize the successes of Dirty Jobs, Mike Rowe and Discovery it took a series of courageous decisions.  The first by Rowe to pitch his idea; the second, Discovery to hear him, to look past the normal “ho-hum another proposal” attitude and be adroit enough to spot what Rowe could make happen for them; thirdly the combined decision to stick with Rowe and his crew to create television gold.  Words and work.  Are you following along yet?

All of this has led to Rowe creating a “Work is not the Enemy” movement, backed by his own new website which debuted on Labor Day aptly called, www.mikeroweworks.com.  On this deftly produced site, you can find a plethora of skilled trade information, schools, scholarship info, job boards, general input, discussion forums and plenty of Rowe’s trademark humor.  In addition, his schedule now includes  speaking engagements that directly address the need for more skilled trade workers and our country’s crumbling infrastructure. (To take a look at Mike in action, check out this video on work, Dirty Jobs and lamb castration:   http://tiny.cc/IMyFJ.  I promise that you will be affected in ways you can’t image if you take the time to listen. Rowe’s words on what he calls, The War on Work are brilliant and timely.)

Once again, words and work combined for a successful outcome.

What about you?  With the proper combination of words and work, what can you accomplish?  I’ll wager, more than you think you can.  As we end one year and prepare for the next, you need to realize that your dream has never been closer than it is at this exact instant.

That’s the way I feel right now.  Yes, I have some dreams and goals, too.  I, like Mike Rowe, have a proposal to make and all I can hope it that I can gain the attention of the right people to listen, and they will hear the underlying commitment, preparedness, expertise and wisdom in my words.  I am ready to combine my words and work for the betterment of this project.

Mike Rowe of Dirty Jobs

How about it?

Will you listen Mr. Rowe?