I clicked “Send” on the second email and, in the moments following, felt a sudden wave of emptiness. All of the reasons I was still in Springfield instantly vanished; I was on the outside looking in, longing to belong once again. And, just like that, I went from staff member to fan, advisor to friend…and, a few weeks prior, from employed to unemployed by July 31, 2009.
When I applied for the Peace Corps approximately a year ago, I had no idea what to expect, from the process or myself. In May 2008, after a two-hour phone interview, I was nominated to serve as a volunteer in Sub-Sahara Africa teaching secondary English for a program departing in April 2009. Although I would be vested in retirement by late January, April was the earliest I was willing to depart in an effort to fulfill my commitments to the students for which I was serving at the University. Although I knew I had several more obstacles to face before the nomination became a reality, I don’t think I knew quite how long the process could take.
One thing I did know, however, was that regardless of Peace Corps placement, I needed to leave Springfield before another academic year began. Not because I dislike Springfield—quite the contrary-- but because it’s time for me to move on, to be uncomfortable, to be challenged. I have been in Springfield since August of 1998. And, in going on eleven years, I have evolved from student to employee; from friend to wife to ex-wife; from fan to staff member; and from employee to advisor. Needless to say, it’s been quite the journey.
So, after receiving medical clearance, my hope was that I would be departing Springfield by April—July at the latest—and that I would know of my “plans” by the start of the New Year for adequate departure preparations, disclosure, and celebrations. The New Year came and went, as well as the six-week-advance-notice deadline Peace Corps is required to give for all invitations that would have been for an April departure. It was clear, at this point, that my initial “plan” would need some tweaking. The time had arrived, regardless of knowledge about my future, when disclosure of my intended departure was necessary. And so, I disclosed and resigned; giving up a lot of something for nothing, at this time.
I am currently a Priority Applicant for the Peace Corps. The volunteer organization, like many others, has faced recent financial hardships and an increase in competitive applicants. The program I was nominated for filled very early, with mostly health-degreed applicants focusing on the HIV/AIDS epidemic. Apparently, regardless of the global economic status, a postponed departure is a fairly common occurrence. My Placement Officer has recently informed me that she is considering me for programs in the July-September timeframe. Seeing as I will be unemployed in August, July would be nice.
It would not be accurate for me to state that I am confident this plan will become a reality. In fact, due to past experiences, I refuse to react to forecasted opportunities (aka: plans). Instead, I prefer to focus on what I am experiencing in the now. This approach seems to serve me better, affording me happiness regardless of outcome. Should the Peace Corps not work out, “Plan” B is just as exciting; “Plan” B = anything but the Peace Corps, something outside of Springfield, Missouri.
Am I worried that I quit my job in the worst economy since The Depression without another job in place? Absolutely. But am I excited that change is on the horizon? Without a doubt. For me, this decision symbolizes the beauty of freedom and the power of choice. And while I may be risking comfort, stability and security, never taking a chance on change would be worse than any discomfort, instability, or fear I will encounter. Whether my exhale is the Peace Corps or “Plan” B, I am looking forward to it.
Thursday, March 26, 2009
Sunday, March 8, 2009
Religion and Politics
People are passionate about many things, but two things are certain: religion and politics. Folks know what they believe. And while some are willing to state their beliefs candidly, others tend to keep their thoughts to themselves. But why is that? Is it out of formality? Is it an attempt to avoid conflict? Or is it merely a public relations move to avoid irresponsible judgment that could possibly prevent relationship development, personally or professionally? Maybe just a fear of judgment itself?
There was a time in my life when I would publically state my beliefs. These statements, however, were not ones of pride, but of arrogance and ignorance. My beliefs were “right,” and I was confident of such. As a result, I was quick to lose not only my ability to see, but to hear as well. I was so focused on being “right” that I didn’t stop to question the reasons why, much less learn about others’ beliefs and the reasons for them. It was as if I had a product to sell, and was going to convince you to buy it…or at least admit it was the best one on the market.
Since then, my statements have turned into questions. Questions allow me to learn; to better understand beliefs, behaviors and actions. They also allow me to assess the situation with regard to my own disclosure and whether it will serve as a similar learning tool for another in a dialogue or just trigger a sales pitch and sermon. Unfortunately, I have heard more sermons from those with differing beliefs than I’ve had discussions. I truly believe that once we acknowledge the existence of multiple truths, greater solutions will evolve. The difficult part, however, is getting past the passion; the blinding truth.
So, in an age where self-disclosure is not limited to dialogue, is it wise to do so without explanation? Is the one-line Facebook entry regarding religion and politics a statement for judgment, true or false, or simply a means of truth? What liberal means to one, however, may not mean liberal to another. If someone claims Catholicism, is it an actual belief or one that is followed blindly from upbringing? To the person who claims it, I guess the answer shouldn’t matter.
When I first started my Facebook Profile, I left these two items blank. I thought that I was doing so to prevent false judgment from those I work with professionally; an allowance to judge me strictly on direct interactions. However, now I wonder if it was an action to avoid judgment in general, resulting in possible rejection? So I ask; is it smarter to avoid disclosure of beliefs that, for better or worse, tend to trigger a passionate response, positive or negative, when trying to create a level playing field for productivity and understanding? Or is it simply just a dismissal of self which ultimately leads to misunderstanding?
There was a time in my life when I would publically state my beliefs. These statements, however, were not ones of pride, but of arrogance and ignorance. My beliefs were “right,” and I was confident of such. As a result, I was quick to lose not only my ability to see, but to hear as well. I was so focused on being “right” that I didn’t stop to question the reasons why, much less learn about others’ beliefs and the reasons for them. It was as if I had a product to sell, and was going to convince you to buy it…or at least admit it was the best one on the market.
Since then, my statements have turned into questions. Questions allow me to learn; to better understand beliefs, behaviors and actions. They also allow me to assess the situation with regard to my own disclosure and whether it will serve as a similar learning tool for another in a dialogue or just trigger a sales pitch and sermon. Unfortunately, I have heard more sermons from those with differing beliefs than I’ve had discussions. I truly believe that once we acknowledge the existence of multiple truths, greater solutions will evolve. The difficult part, however, is getting past the passion; the blinding truth.
So, in an age where self-disclosure is not limited to dialogue, is it wise to do so without explanation? Is the one-line Facebook entry regarding religion and politics a statement for judgment, true or false, or simply a means of truth? What liberal means to one, however, may not mean liberal to another. If someone claims Catholicism, is it an actual belief or one that is followed blindly from upbringing? To the person who claims it, I guess the answer shouldn’t matter.
When I first started my Facebook Profile, I left these two items blank. I thought that I was doing so to prevent false judgment from those I work with professionally; an allowance to judge me strictly on direct interactions. However, now I wonder if it was an action to avoid judgment in general, resulting in possible rejection? So I ask; is it smarter to avoid disclosure of beliefs that, for better or worse, tend to trigger a passionate response, positive or negative, when trying to create a level playing field for productivity and understanding? Or is it simply just a dismissal of self which ultimately leads to misunderstanding?
Monday, February 16, 2009
The Prescription
Lately, my conversations and experiences have revolved around the prescription; more specifically, the “right” way to live. Is there even such a thing? It is my opinion that an ideal way to exist, according to societal expectations, does indeed penetrate the very fibers of our being. But, I do not believe that this image we have been sold is, in any way, the “right” way to live...only a mere sales pitch. One, I am afraid, that makes the world around us operate successfully, although, in most cases, miserably.
The prescription that I speak of is the one that faces college graduates in their last semester, or, really anyone in their twenties: job, husband or wife, house, family pet, kids, grandkids …preferably in that order. This is the very prescription I, myself, once coined as “right.” But what, exactly, is right about it? Stability, security, love, belonging, and purpose all come to mind. It actually sounds pretty good. Then, why is it that this “right” seems to be “wrong” for so many?
Is it the trapping sensation felt when financial obligation commits you to one location and, possibly, one vocation? Is it the predictability and isolation of “forever” with another human being? The exhaustion of parenting that is different from the Norman Rockwell painting? Possibly. But I think that might sound a little jaded. Realistic, perhaps? Maybe.
Without question, there are associations with the prescription that are desirable, but I do not believe it is the prescription itself. A job, at the very least, gives a person purpose; and, if not purpose, financial stability. In a perfect world, it would do both. If, by chance, these objectives could be fulfilled outside of employment, I believe satisfaction could be achieved. Along those same lines, a significant other is supposed to symbolize companionship and love. While I do believe this could work, I also believe that these same needs can be met with other people. It is my opinion that living amongst many provides a more balanced, possibly positive, environment for all human beings...especially children…than an isolating immediate family experience. With the support of many, men and women are lifted of the burdens to themselves and each other as members of the opposite sex, but also as parents. Women help each other raise children and serve as a necessary support system for one another, while men can feel understood and appreciated within their own gender. In short, the community at large benefits from such strength, physical and emotional, in numbers.
Is this concept realistic? As previously mentioned, under current survival circumstances, it is not for the majority. The world, as we know it, works because of the prescription. Communities are built because couples buy houses. Those same couples find work in the area to pay for their house. In most cases, kids follow to create a family. Finances become a huge priority for the family, making the job an even more important necessity. And once the kids are in school, relocation is nearly impossible. It is the prescription that keeps businesses booming and houses off the market. If everyone was free from obligation, personal and financial, there would be significant instability.
It would be irresponsible of me to suggest that the prescription isn’t right for anyone. In fact, I think it works for many. But is it something people choose because it makes them happy, or because they have been told it will make them happy? And how could one really know if it will make him or her happy until he or she experiences it? More importantly, are people limiting their options to marriage, mortgage, and birth children in an attempt to achieve the desirables of love, companionship, stability and family?
While I am certainly grateful to those who follow the prescription, and would never foolishly rule it out, I am hoping to keep the options to achieve my desirables limitless.
The prescription that I speak of is the one that faces college graduates in their last semester, or, really anyone in their twenties: job, husband or wife, house, family pet, kids, grandkids …preferably in that order. This is the very prescription I, myself, once coined as “right.” But what, exactly, is right about it? Stability, security, love, belonging, and purpose all come to mind. It actually sounds pretty good. Then, why is it that this “right” seems to be “wrong” for so many?
Is it the trapping sensation felt when financial obligation commits you to one location and, possibly, one vocation? Is it the predictability and isolation of “forever” with another human being? The exhaustion of parenting that is different from the Norman Rockwell painting? Possibly. But I think that might sound a little jaded. Realistic, perhaps? Maybe.
Without question, there are associations with the prescription that are desirable, but I do not believe it is the prescription itself. A job, at the very least, gives a person purpose; and, if not purpose, financial stability. In a perfect world, it would do both. If, by chance, these objectives could be fulfilled outside of employment, I believe satisfaction could be achieved. Along those same lines, a significant other is supposed to symbolize companionship and love. While I do believe this could work, I also believe that these same needs can be met with other people. It is my opinion that living amongst many provides a more balanced, possibly positive, environment for all human beings...especially children…than an isolating immediate family experience. With the support of many, men and women are lifted of the burdens to themselves and each other as members of the opposite sex, but also as parents. Women help each other raise children and serve as a necessary support system for one another, while men can feel understood and appreciated within their own gender. In short, the community at large benefits from such strength, physical and emotional, in numbers.
Is this concept realistic? As previously mentioned, under current survival circumstances, it is not for the majority. The world, as we know it, works because of the prescription. Communities are built because couples buy houses. Those same couples find work in the area to pay for their house. In most cases, kids follow to create a family. Finances become a huge priority for the family, making the job an even more important necessity. And once the kids are in school, relocation is nearly impossible. It is the prescription that keeps businesses booming and houses off the market. If everyone was free from obligation, personal and financial, there would be significant instability.
It would be irresponsible of me to suggest that the prescription isn’t right for anyone. In fact, I think it works for many. But is it something people choose because it makes them happy, or because they have been told it will make them happy? And how could one really know if it will make him or her happy until he or she experiences it? More importantly, are people limiting their options to marriage, mortgage, and birth children in an attempt to achieve the desirables of love, companionship, stability and family?
While I am certainly grateful to those who follow the prescription, and would never foolishly rule it out, I am hoping to keep the options to achieve my desirables limitless.
Saturday, January 24, 2009
My Own Backyard
On the day the 44th President of the United States was inaugurated, I held on to a popular reaction. It had seemed, to some, that this act of ceremonial tradition triggered a difference in the world’s appearance. Some felt that on this day life looked differently, in a positive way. This expression quickly reminded me of my own thoughts not too long ago.
Over the holidays I did some traveling. One might even say that I enjoyed something old, something new, something borrowed, and something blue. I visited my old place of employment in South Carolina, explored a new city, stayed in other people’s homes, and lost myself in the beauty of the Blue Ridge Mountains. And, as usual, I acquired some miles along the way. It was during these very miles that I found myself dissecting my own reactions to change.
Could it be that the sunset experienced in a new location looks more beautiful than the same one experienced at the place we call home? Are the hills of another state more attractive simply because of their location? The rivers more serene? Time, itself, more meaningful? When I reflect on my disclosed summaries of trips I have taken in the past, I remember promoting the grandeur of all that I had seen with a tone of excitement. The sunsets were, in these testimonies, indeed the most beautiful, the hills were more attractive, and the rivers more exquisite. Somehow, time WAS more meaningful and had to be treated as such.
Could it actually be the change in location that defines these moments more positively in our minds? The newness of the experience? Do we get so wrapped up in the change, and our need for it, that we cloud our vision of its truth? Is it better because it is, or because we need it to be? We want it to be?
When I left Missouri’s borders for the New Year transition, I came back with a new challenge. The challenge to see the place I call home with a new set of eyes; to find the same beauty in the sunsets of Missouri as I can anywhere else in the world…the same inspiration from the hills…the same serenity from the rivers. If I choose to see my state, my own backyard, differently…I believe I will.
Over the holidays I did some traveling. One might even say that I enjoyed something old, something new, something borrowed, and something blue. I visited my old place of employment in South Carolina, explored a new city, stayed in other people’s homes, and lost myself in the beauty of the Blue Ridge Mountains. And, as usual, I acquired some miles along the way. It was during these very miles that I found myself dissecting my own reactions to change.
Could it be that the sunset experienced in a new location looks more beautiful than the same one experienced at the place we call home? Are the hills of another state more attractive simply because of their location? The rivers more serene? Time, itself, more meaningful? When I reflect on my disclosed summaries of trips I have taken in the past, I remember promoting the grandeur of all that I had seen with a tone of excitement. The sunsets were, in these testimonies, indeed the most beautiful, the hills were more attractive, and the rivers more exquisite. Somehow, time WAS more meaningful and had to be treated as such.
Could it actually be the change in location that defines these moments more positively in our minds? The newness of the experience? Do we get so wrapped up in the change, and our need for it, that we cloud our vision of its truth? Is it better because it is, or because we need it to be? We want it to be?
When I left Missouri’s borders for the New Year transition, I came back with a new challenge. The challenge to see the place I call home with a new set of eyes; to find the same beauty in the sunsets of Missouri as I can anywhere else in the world…the same inspiration from the hills…the same serenity from the rivers. If I choose to see my state, my own backyard, differently…I believe I will.
Sunday, January 11, 2009
Balance
If it’s Sunday, it’s Meet the Press…or, if I slept in longer than usual, that other political show with George Stephanopoulos. Regardless, it is a time for me to watch and listen to those who govern our nation, as well as those who critique their decisions. With green tea in hand, this morning was no different.
As I listened to the roundtable discussion that seemed to jump from one conflict to another, I found my thoughts wandering elsewhere. I began thinking about many of the conflicts facing the world today, not to mention those of our own nation. And, like most, my first reaction was sadness and frustration. But, almost just as instinctually, my second reaction was one of appreciation.
Not too long ago, I had a conversation with an older Korean man who dialogued with me about the importance of good and evil. His basic argument was that the existence of evil allows good to be understood or appreciated as such; the idea that the struggle of life allows its counterpart to exist. And this is exactly where my mind wandered to with regard to all of the world’s advertised pain and suffering.
Is it possible that these very conflicts are necessary for the world to be balanced? While it is shocking, even to me, to advocate this very idea…the idea that peace and violence provide a healthy balance to existence…it also brings about a resolve that is very calming when troubled with the question, “Why?”
When I reflect on the purpose of many that seems to revolve around the troubling nature of things---problem solvers, peace keepers, employees of homeless shelters, civil rights advocates---I can’t help but question if life really would be better without conflict. Would we really appreciate good? Can worldwide peace truly exist? Or is it in our nature to create conflict for a purpose, which may or may not involve balance?
I cringe at the idea of war; I get uncomfortable around guns; and I cry when shown visions of genocide. But, it is my opinion that those reactions are a direct result of their counterparts. Worldwide peace will, I’m afraid, continue to be a lifelong purpose for mankind. But its achievement, if accomplished, will be extraordinary due, mostly in part, to the suffering that preceded it.
As I listened to the roundtable discussion that seemed to jump from one conflict to another, I found my thoughts wandering elsewhere. I began thinking about many of the conflicts facing the world today, not to mention those of our own nation. And, like most, my first reaction was sadness and frustration. But, almost just as instinctually, my second reaction was one of appreciation.
Not too long ago, I had a conversation with an older Korean man who dialogued with me about the importance of good and evil. His basic argument was that the existence of evil allows good to be understood or appreciated as such; the idea that the struggle of life allows its counterpart to exist. And this is exactly where my mind wandered to with regard to all of the world’s advertised pain and suffering.
Is it possible that these very conflicts are necessary for the world to be balanced? While it is shocking, even to me, to advocate this very idea…the idea that peace and violence provide a healthy balance to existence…it also brings about a resolve that is very calming when troubled with the question, “Why?”
When I reflect on the purpose of many that seems to revolve around the troubling nature of things---problem solvers, peace keepers, employees of homeless shelters, civil rights advocates---I can’t help but question if life really would be better without conflict. Would we really appreciate good? Can worldwide peace truly exist? Or is it in our nature to create conflict for a purpose, which may or may not involve balance?
I cringe at the idea of war; I get uncomfortable around guns; and I cry when shown visions of genocide. But, it is my opinion that those reactions are a direct result of their counterparts. Worldwide peace will, I’m afraid, continue to be a lifelong purpose for mankind. But its achievement, if accomplished, will be extraordinary due, mostly in part, to the suffering that preceded it.
Saturday, December 27, 2008
Unabridged Version
With presents packed into leftover retail bags placed strategically in the trunk, and a homemade potato dish releasing its scent throughout the entire vehicle, we headed out for our traditional holiday travel destination. After several minutes of temperature control adjustments made solely through indirect comments from each traveler indicating an uncomfortable state, the radio's tunes and the repetitive sound of the tires on pavement began to lull me into an isolating fog. Although every now and then the voices in the front seat pulled me off my train of thought, I mostly found peace in my stare out the back seat window.
I have found that my travels in the back seat of a vehicle allow me to really see my surroundings. Not that I do not physically see the same things when in the front passenger seat, but I feel as though my obligation to the driver as a companion of sorts somewhat distracts me from the immediate environment's details. In addition, the front seat experience does not allow me adequate processing time to appreciate these details as I feel I could. This holiday was no different.
While riding along, I saw rearview windows blocked completely with beautifully wrapped presents; brightly colored paper and metallically shiny bows. I saw dogs of all kinds moving frantically back and forth in their spot of the vehicle, pacing almost with a curiosity of the excited energy spilling out onto the roads this very day. There was an older man and a boy walking alongside an outer road, bundled up from head to toe, holding hands and moving forward with intention. There were even other faces in the backseat of cars looking out into the world with expressions that, too, symbolized inner reflection and thought. With each passerby, I couldn't help but wonder about his or her story; who are these people, really? Even within my own traveling vehicle, I wondered this very question.
A couple weeks ago, during my visit to Barnes and Noble, I was meandering through the Bargain Books section of the store. It was then that I came across several unabridged collections, and the very notion of my own unabridged version; the unabridged version of Rachelle. Does anyone really know this version of me? Do I?
There are so many aspects of our life, while maybe not forgotten, are certainly edited…removing the raw experience and all the emotion and thought associated…so that we may move forward and focus on the now. It seems that holding on to each and every detail of the past would cloud the present and future; maybe making the ability to grow a struggle in itself, if not impossible. But even in the chance that we truly know and embrace the unabridged version of ourselves, is it even possible to share it with another? This then begs the question, "Do we really know each other?" I sometimes think I know just as much about my own family as I know about the stranger in the back seat of the vehicle passing by. Yet, somehow, the titles and frequency of exchange have convinced me otherwise…despite the lack of personal disclosure.
I have found that my travels in the back seat of a vehicle allow me to really see my surroundings. Not that I do not physically see the same things when in the front passenger seat, but I feel as though my obligation to the driver as a companion of sorts somewhat distracts me from the immediate environment's details. In addition, the front seat experience does not allow me adequate processing time to appreciate these details as I feel I could. This holiday was no different.
While riding along, I saw rearview windows blocked completely with beautifully wrapped presents; brightly colored paper and metallically shiny bows. I saw dogs of all kinds moving frantically back and forth in their spot of the vehicle, pacing almost with a curiosity of the excited energy spilling out onto the roads this very day. There was an older man and a boy walking alongside an outer road, bundled up from head to toe, holding hands and moving forward with intention. There were even other faces in the backseat of cars looking out into the world with expressions that, too, symbolized inner reflection and thought. With each passerby, I couldn't help but wonder about his or her story; who are these people, really? Even within my own traveling vehicle, I wondered this very question.
A couple weeks ago, during my visit to Barnes and Noble, I was meandering through the Bargain Books section of the store. It was then that I came across several unabridged collections, and the very notion of my own unabridged version; the unabridged version of Rachelle. Does anyone really know this version of me? Do I?
There are so many aspects of our life, while maybe not forgotten, are certainly edited…removing the raw experience and all the emotion and thought associated…so that we may move forward and focus on the now. It seems that holding on to each and every detail of the past would cloud the present and future; maybe making the ability to grow a struggle in itself, if not impossible. But even in the chance that we truly know and embrace the unabridged version of ourselves, is it even possible to share it with another? This then begs the question, "Do we really know each other?" I sometimes think I know just as much about my own family as I know about the stranger in the back seat of the vehicle passing by. Yet, somehow, the titles and frequency of exchange have convinced me otherwise…despite the lack of personal disclosure.
Monday, December 22, 2008
Birds on a Wire
Here it is; the official first day of winter. And, I can honestly say, I have spent an abnormal amount of time today trying to stay warm. According to the weather folks, it is negative-something degrees outside. And whenever the weatherman says, “Minus,” I automatically visualize my important limbs…minus fingers, toes and the tip of my nose. At one point today, I was actually wearing my stocking cap…INSIDE my apartment.
My heater is on. I stare at my fireplace imaging warmth since I ran out of heat-producing materials a couple days ago and have yet to acquire more. I have even placed a down comforter on my couch for cocoon-like preservation when in a non-movement state of being. None of this, however, has seemed to alleviate the arctic tundra that is now my living environment (and I’m pretty sure the Ben & Jerry’s I had for dinner didn’t help any either). Maybe I just have a cold? If so, I’d like to trade it in for a warm! All joking aside, the colder weather has definitely affected the behaviors of all living creatures near and far.
Every morning on my way to work, I can’t help but notice a flock…maybe a group…possibly a collection of birds that gather on a particular telephone wire. While I cannot be certain it is the same birds every day, I can be certain of their presence; same place, same time…approximately same amount. It might even be the exact same amount, although I have never taken the time to count.
Just last week, I noticed a slight change in the birds’ placement. They were closer together. It was as if they were snuggling to stay warm on their wire. I chuckled and thought to myself, in tough times even the birds stick together. They do what they have to for survival; for a better existence.
This thought just happened to coincide with a demanding time at work. With the help of a new computer software system, coupled with a traditionally busy time of year, our office staff was buried in task with little to no end in sight. It almost seemed hopeless. But just when emotions were running high, our leadership rallied the departmental troops. And with a couple days of cross-training, and a few more days of hard work, the office load was tackled. What would have taken weeks to finish, was completed in days.
Just like the birds gathering for warmth, this teamwork effort exhibited in a time of crisis brought me great joy. It truly is amazing what can be accomplished when living creatures work together for the greater good. Anything is possible. Although this time of year usually makes me overly sentimental, these kinds of actions make my heart sing year round. I truly believe that when we allow love and kindness to rule our actions, we leave less room for the stuff that prevents us from greatness. Collectively, our greatness is redefined.
My heater is on. I stare at my fireplace imaging warmth since I ran out of heat-producing materials a couple days ago and have yet to acquire more. I have even placed a down comforter on my couch for cocoon-like preservation when in a non-movement state of being. None of this, however, has seemed to alleviate the arctic tundra that is now my living environment (and I’m pretty sure the Ben & Jerry’s I had for dinner didn’t help any either). Maybe I just have a cold? If so, I’d like to trade it in for a warm! All joking aside, the colder weather has definitely affected the behaviors of all living creatures near and far.
Every morning on my way to work, I can’t help but notice a flock…maybe a group…possibly a collection of birds that gather on a particular telephone wire. While I cannot be certain it is the same birds every day, I can be certain of their presence; same place, same time…approximately same amount. It might even be the exact same amount, although I have never taken the time to count.
Just last week, I noticed a slight change in the birds’ placement. They were closer together. It was as if they were snuggling to stay warm on their wire. I chuckled and thought to myself, in tough times even the birds stick together. They do what they have to for survival; for a better existence.
This thought just happened to coincide with a demanding time at work. With the help of a new computer software system, coupled with a traditionally busy time of year, our office staff was buried in task with little to no end in sight. It almost seemed hopeless. But just when emotions were running high, our leadership rallied the departmental troops. And with a couple days of cross-training, and a few more days of hard work, the office load was tackled. What would have taken weeks to finish, was completed in days.
Just like the birds gathering for warmth, this teamwork effort exhibited in a time of crisis brought me great joy. It truly is amazing what can be accomplished when living creatures work together for the greater good. Anything is possible. Although this time of year usually makes me overly sentimental, these kinds of actions make my heart sing year round. I truly believe that when we allow love and kindness to rule our actions, we leave less room for the stuff that prevents us from greatness. Collectively, our greatness is redefined.
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