What does enough look like?

I love being a recruiter as a way to make a living. It is a fantastic mix of detective work, rapport building, conflict resolution, understanding and differentiation. In our new information age I can do it from anywhere, and that is just cool as it can be. My career fits me well, and I find it immensely rewarding when things go well, and probably learn even more when they do not. I left my company and went out on my own because I felt like like my life was terribly out of balance. Yes part of it was the oppressive and abusive atmosphere coupled with the rampant disrespect, but all of that negativity really just made me more aware that I was following a path that wasn't consistent with how I wanted to live. I found myself dreaming of a life where where kindness, compassion, and mutual respect formed the ground rules and, ultimately, where I could feel like I "made a difference" to the world as a whole. That life looked so far away from what I was living that it seemed like a fairy tale. When I stopped and looked at the distance between the life I was living and the life I wanted, I got scared. I also got busy figuring out a way to escape. It is not that I am against working smart and making money. I had that discussion with myself years and years ago, and I decided then that I can do more for the world with some cash than without it. But the truth was I was exhausted mentally, physically and emotionally from an environment that had become combative and very dark. I wasn't doing anything for myself, not to mention anyone else.

Continue ReadingWhat does enough look like?

Science – it is not just for the classroom anymore.

I believe that a strong foundation of critical thinking, innovation, curiousity about the natural world, rigorous adherence to non-biased exploration, and a bent toward problem solving is part of what has made our country great. I think science, when at its best, fosters those characteristics, and can help us continue…

Continue ReadingScience – it is not just for the classroom anymore.

Cats With Guns – The Pinky Show

In which we, along with a disappointed viewer, are are schooled by a very smart cat regarding symbols, meaning, and discourse. If you are not familiar with The Pinky Show, check them out. Though simple, compelling. I always gain at least one new way to look at things. [youtube]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MaESuQQRask[/youtube] If…

Continue ReadingCats With Guns – The Pinky Show

No Clinging

Tragedy struck our family suddenly, as it sometimes does, with no real warning signs or portents. One moment, contentment, a morning ritual of oatmeal and coffee, conversation about daily plans, and then a new moment - horror, blood, panic, and my oatmeal bowl in mid-air, suspended. That instant, so short so brutal, shattered us. Driving, driving to the animal emergency clinic - is this too fast? This is too slow - get in that lane - stave off panic, full of dread and fear, breathe in, breathe out dare to hope. So sorry, so sorry, no words to capture the sorrow. The history - years of love and effort and training with a much loved but unpredictable dog with and for whom we worked so hard (not hard enough?), and a greatly treasured older cat who ruled our home like a feisty queen, and with whom the dog always backed down, isn't the point here. But that history was the the fabric of our home, our life. Much effort, so much love and constant awareness. Years and years of vigilance, training and exercise wasn't enough, and now we lose two beloved beings in one short time. We live with that, we grieve, we work to move beyond remorse and guilt. During one of the many trips to the hospital, (so many, an eternity in a few days) I think - this is why we need a heaven. This yearning to know that loss isn't how we end, that there is some goodness waiting to counter this searing pain. That hope would help with my sorrow, with my anger, with my guilt and regret. Too know that my beings will live again, free of pain, happy. That the damage led to perfection. My yearning tastes of tears, so sorry, no words.

Continue ReadingNo Clinging