It Takes a Village

I am by no means new to the pet parenting world, as I've had at least one cat since I started living on my own.  But, when I recently entered the universe of dog ownership, the parallels between the demands of properly raising a pup and the 24-hour care of a child suddenly made sense.  Whereas with the cats over the years, I could fudge it at times it was necessary, there are many times this is just not possible with a dog.  The beauty of it, though, is that I feel I have just the combination of a village to keep Tucker a happy and healthy puppy. 

One of the first demands that cropped up was the conundrum of a midday break from the crate.  My office is a mere 10 minute drive from home.  The problem, though, is that in my universe, it always seems that those red flag double top priority demands hit the Inbox, just as I am standing up to walk away from my desk.  To avoid this situation, I'm employing the use of an amazing service called Critter Sitters.  This is a business that's been around Wheeling for 16 years, and the ladies come to your home at the appointed time, let your animals do what they must, love on them, talk to them, let them get a drink, and then place them back where they belong for the afternoon.  Tucker has, thankfully, grown to love his crate as well as all walks of life, so this arrangement is working out perfectly.  His needs are tended to, and my workday remains accommodating to all.

I had to take him for his first non-routine vet visit this week.  It turned out he simply was having some allergies flair up, but after the visit (and a day of worrying), I was thinking about how much I love it that the veterinarian has all the answers I do not.  I watched in amazement as he took the less than few minutes to examine the issue, asked for the appropriate medications and tools and set to his work.  This self-assured response was in stark contrast to my 4:00am search on Google and Wikipedia to try to diagnose the issue.  Every time I walk away from K.E.Y. Animal Hospital, I am thankful that there is someone around who loves all animals to the degree that I love my own and also that that person just happens to be certified to handle these types of situations I am not.  I, of course, appreciate him on the routine trips as well, but it's those non-routine moments that really shake things up.

And then there are those moments (yes, even blessed Tucker has them) when some random puppy behavior crops up, and I have absolutely no idea how to change it.  I have stumbled across a plethora of information on dog behavior and training through books (mainly The Art of Raising a Puppy by the Monks of Skeet) and other internet resources (mainly those posted by Cesar Millan).  It astonishes me each time I type a randomly worded question into Google, and a zillion results pop up.  Granted, there are a lot of message boards and other not-so-useful resources, but I think back to pre-internet times and wonder how people did this stuff!    

Without all of these resources, puppy-rearing could be a lot harder and also feel a lot less accessible.  So, now when I hear someone utter the classic line about how it takes a village to raise [fill in the blank with animal, child, etc.], I will be in full agreement and have a much more solid appreciation for what that really means.

Slow Cookin'

Not since my days of working in our New York City office have I been so short on time...for everything.  Every day is a rubix cube of making it all work and fit.  There are the less flexible things (like work) and the more flexible things (like cooking).

In past lives, I probably would have opted for tossing raman noodles in the microwave and eating a peanut butter sandwich for good protein measure at a time like this.  However, I successfully pulled off cooking with my eyes closed...aka while sleeping...and I think I'm on to something to avoid the horrors of eating out too much and raman as well.

In order to prepare a healthy meal for at least 2-3 nights this week, I decided to break out the good old slow cooker/crockpot.  While this option proved invaluable for my schedule, it's also endorsed as a great "green" option, as it uses less energy than firing up your stove, and it also affords almost as many choices as other regular recipes.  As time grew tighter and tighter during the course of the day yesterday, the meal plan fluctuated.  I landed on pepper steak (a fabulous recipe find from a couple of years ago on http://www.allrecipes.com/ because I could make enough time to brown the meet necessary, and the slow cooker could do the rest of the work...as I slept!  The only quirk about this route is that it is a bit odd waking in the night to the aroma of a home-cooked meal. 

In the end, I have to endorse this as a great option for those days, weeks or months that more time consuming cooking just isn't possible.

The Power of Observation

Sometimes, when things get really busy, it can be tough to slow down the pace a bit and just observe.  The funny thing, though, is that it's when we slow down and observe that we have the chance to really take notice of how things work around us.  I've been blown away sometimes by realizations that slap me in the face about the most mundane things, and how they work.  For me, there's some fundamental sense of satisfaction that comes from doing this. 

I have found recently that my natural tendency to wonder about things has proven an asset, and this paired with a little time set aside for observation, makes for wonderful moments of innovation.  In my day job as a legal marketing specialist, I often have to find ways to tout the firm's "innovative" approach to law.  I think that this concept has sunk in by osmosis into the Clark Kent parts of my days because I now seem to come up with unique approaches to problem solving by simply thinking about how things work and how to leverage how they work. 

My best current example of this includes the transformation of closet space.  My house does not have a ton of closet space besides the one large one in the bedroom.  So, I constantly find myself working to reorganize my clothes and odds and ends in that space.  I realized a few days ago that the shelves in my bathroom closet, which is a solid couple of feet wide, were all able to be removed.  So, with one trip to Lowe's, I was able to pick up a closet bar to fit, remove the shelves, have the bar installed and introduce a whole new space for clothes storage.  These types of ideas feel great because they're simply about maximizing the potential of what you already have.

No matter how busy things get, it's always good to slow down and honor you own personal powers of observation.

Who Thought of That?

I was doing a fairly simple (and indulgent) thing today when it occurred to me that someone somewhere had done some major thinking in order for me to be having that simple (and indulgent) moment. 

My niece is officially of the age to be a girl scout.  Out of great loyalty to her cause, I bought a few boxes of girl scout cookies from her this year.  I am currently working on the Tagalongs, taking a couple as an afternoon treat each day at work.  Today, I decided to have a little coffee with them, and as I strolled back the quiet hallway to my desk, it occurred to me that my favorite chocolate combination is probably that with peanut butter.  And then it occurred to me that chocolate and peanut butter don't simply exist naturally.  Someone, somewhere, at some point in time (thank goodness!) thought of the brilliant combination.

Naturally, I traveled the interwebs to figure out the history.  First, I found out that the Reese's brand of peanut butter filled chocolate has only been around since 1927.  Shocking!  I can't find a lot of information on other brands of cups that may have existed prior, so I'm assuming this was the first creation.  Then, out of further curiosity, I searched and came to find that the modern day version of peanut butter was only founded a few centuries earlier.

Peanut butter is a staple food in my world.  So, this simple passing moment of wonder led me to realize that even the simplest of things required innovative thought by someone, somewhere.  It's pretty amazing to think of all the thoughts humanity has produced over time.  Granted, some of those thoughts have been below par on the morality scale, but the pairing of peanut butter and chocolate, in my book, rates up there pretty high.      

A Wicklow Retreat

In honor of St. Patrick's Day, I thought I'd provide another brief tale from my adventures in Ireland. 

On one of the weekends during our stay in Dublin, I suggested we sign up for a hike in the Wicklow Mountains with an outfitter known as Dirty Boot Treks.  I'm fairly sure this company no longer exists, but the three of us who participated in the hike--myself and my two undergrad chums, Ellen and Mikey--couldn't say anything but good after the experience.

The adventure included a 14-16 mile hike through the Wicklow Mountains, and more particularly adjacent to lands owned by the Guinness family.  We met our guide at a random Dublin address and were whisked away by Land Rover to the remote hiking location.  I believe we had arrived home from our prior night's adventures somewhere around 2 or 3 in the morning, so the meeting time of 7am was a bit painful at first (and lacked enthusiasm to say the least).  But, our determination prevailed, and we were so pleased with the outcome.

Two Londoners joined us for the hike, and their company was a true pleasure.  We were all amateurs, enjoying the scenery and guide's tales as well.  It was on this hike that the guide pointed out that St. Patrick banished all snakes from Ireland, which made the hike, for some of us non-snake-loving-folks, that much more enjoyable.  There were patterns of brown where the beautiful purple heather had previously in bloom along the hillsides and amazing shades of green all around us.  (Based on the brown, it would be awe-inspiring to see the hillsides with the heather in bloom). 

When we reached the summit of our hike, which was about the midpoint, we were treated to a delicious lunch of hot creamy mushroom soup and brie sandwiches (we laughed later that this was one of the most gourmet meals experienced in our time there).  After eating, we were able to roam the mountaintop a bit, and this was when I realized I could view the Irish Sea in the distance.  This marked and still remains one of the most beautiful sites I've ever experienced.  There's something about being surrounded by mountain terrain and yet at rim of the sea.

The Irish countryside remains one of my favorite images to hearken back in my mind.  It was a day of great beauty and joy.  And I tip my non-snake-loving hat to St. Patrick for allowing me the extra pleasure of a hike without any fears of crossing paths with a slithery snake.        

Sounds of Life

Having a new puppy in my home affords me the pleasure of communing with nature at daybreak every morning.  I love this aspect of puppy rearing.  Tucker the Goldendoodle is a bedtime champion, sleeping through the night without a peep, so this makes for a much more happy meet and greet with the morning. 

My favorite moment of the day is stepping out into the morning's dawn and hearing the sweet songs of the birds.  I've noticed much more tunes being sung just over the last week or so.  Their notes are so full of optimism and excitement at the new day's start that I can't help but play along.  I may still be rubbing the sleep from my mind's eye, but their songs definitely enrich this process. 

Just as winter's calm silence can be fulfilling experience to take in, so too can spring's sounds rejuvenate.  Tonight, as we set out for our after work walk, the kids were playing, the dogs were barking and the light of day was presenting us with it's extra stretch of grandeur (insert a hesitant thanks to daylight savings here).  All of the sounds of spring exude life.  I think we've reached the spring awakening! 

On Being Trained by a Dog

"This is perhaps why animals (particularly our dogs) are so important to us and why we benefit from their companionship:  they root us in life."  

Staying in the present can be such a challenging thing.  It's always so easy to think of tomorrow, anticipating needs and wants.  It's also fairly easy to look back and dwell on decisions and actions from the past.  But, staying in the present is something that requires a lot of self-discipline and awareness.  Placed in this context, acquiring my new puppy, Tucker, has been much more a case of him training me than me training him. 

The quote above is taken from The Art of Raising a Puppy, a book written by The Monks of Skete.  I read this book in preparation for bringing Tucker home, and there were so many insights into the nature of dogs and the co-mingling of the human and canine spirits.  The quote above, though, struck me as particularly profound because I've struggled with staying in the present for as long as I can remember.  I lean much more to the side of preparing in advance for everything, even those things not very likely to pop up.  In the end, I usually have everything from Plan A to Plan E covered, including all associated variables.  But, after reading the above quote, I decided that I would immerse myself in this facet about which the monks write because losing the present to the future, in the end, is no fun.

So far, this has been such an enriching experience.  House training and all of the other tedious tasks of welcoming a new furry friend take on a totally new meaning when it's about the challenge of staying in the present.  You don't want to slip from the present only to find that your new friend has had an accident on the floor.  You don't want to slip from the present as those soulful eyes trace your movements, just waiting for that moment when you'll acknowledge him.  You don't want to stare off into space as your new companion discovers the leaves dancing across the grass as the wind is whipping.  In the first instance, it's simply bad for you both, but in the latter two instances, the bonding is unlike anything I've ever experienced before. 

I have found the old cliche to be true.  Dogs really are man's best friend because they can single-handedly rescue you from your self-obsessions and remind you how much amazing growth and beauty are around us all of the time, waiting to be observed.  With each new day, Tucker demonstrates new growth and understanding of the world around him.  Watching this is humbling because it's a reminder that all of those skills and processes we have in our own lives require a very elaborate balance and hundreds, if not thousands, of natural processes.  The monks were right:  they root us in life.

       

The Network of Networks

I've tried to remain as loyal to traditional ways as possible most of my life.  I feel a sense of nostalgia when it comes to pretty much anything and everything traditional.  While I get excited about electronics and technology, I try to resist serial buyage that only serves the consumerist concept of duplication behind it.  The current world seems to have the motto of "if you have it, spend it."  I come more from a background of "if you have it, save it."  This same hesitation has always existed for me when it comes to the various social networks and internet media in general.  A Tribute to Life would've never existed for this very reason had a friend in Philly never convinced me it was a super fun outlet for writing and creative thinking.  I believe it was the same friend who convinced me that a Facebook profile would be super fun.

For years, I've seen my blog and Facebook profile as sufficient internet mingling.  There have been so many other creations and social media pressures, including MySpace, Twitter, FourSquare, Pinterest, Tumblr, etc.  But, in my mind, I've never fully understood why one would need to mingle in so many different places.  It's not dissimilar from my phone situation.  When I decided years ago to have a cell phone, I never could convince myself that a land line was necessary.  What's the necessity there?  One or the other would surely suffice.  Similarly, the multiple social networking concepts all seemed like overkill to me.  And then I recently was forced to duplicate social media efforts.  Yes, forced, and it was most ironic looking back on it.

I was at work and tasked with doing some research on executives at a handful of companies.  There's an upcoming event, sponsored by Ernst & Young, and we were working to nominate entrepreneurs for the annual "Entrepreneur of the Year" awards.  As I searched all of the subscription databases for details on these individuals, I found few details.  However, when I moved to the general Google search, the first result for almost every one was his or her LinkedIn profile.  The catch?  In order to view their profiles and garner details for my partners, I had to subscribe and launch a profile.  So, I had to sacrifice my personal vendetta against social networking duplication in the name of work.  Since then, I've dabbled a bit on LinkedIn, but I must say that nothing feels like a greater waste of time than the idea of re-collecting all of my Facebook friends on a separate network, slightly diversified in its presentation, and keeping them up to date on a slightly different set of information about myself.

I guess this trajectory is the same across all industries, so I shouldn't be surprised.  Everybody must diversify a little bit to differentiate themselves from others and perpetuate the industry.  In the case of these social networks, though, it just seems like an awful lot of talking about oneself.  It's just getting harder and harder to remember where I should be posting what.  After all, it would be awful to get it mixed up and post what I'm doing at work on Facebook, what hobby I'm currently following on LinkedIn and something tedious or uninteresting on Pinterest. 

Natural Goodness

Beginning the day with sunshine, and I don't exactly mean Roger Hargreaves' Little Miss Sunshine title character, makes for an incredibly productive start.  I am not one to shun the rain or storms or snow, but the beginning of a new day with sunshine helps me climb that pre-breakfast and pre-caffeine period with confidence.  I don't even need it beyond, say, 9am.

Waking up to the sun's warm rays, dancing on the walls in my house,  and the trees, grass and hills outside, fills me with the desire to hop out of bed and feel the feeling that is being alive.  The mundane chores of morning take on a new meaning, one of well being and fulfillment.  Rather than a focus on work, it brings a focus on accomplishment.    

Waking up to a bright sunrise, like waking up to enthusiastic puppy kisses, is a reminder that life is really good.  Today started with sunshine.    

Something I Won't Share

During my time in Philadelphia, I fell in love with a lot of new food.  In all of my travels, I have to say that Philadelphia's food offerings still rate up there amongst the best of the best.  There is a lot of diversity and a lot of delicious goodness to be had. 

As a starving graduate student, it's not often that the budget allows for indulgences such as eating out.  But, with strong will and determination, I would manage to eek out the extra cash.  And besides a sushi flop, I can't think of any instances of serious disappointment. 

The restaurant that I will never forget and often long for is now known as Mikado Thai Pepper.  At the time, it was just the Thai Pepper Restaurant, and since then, it combined with the Japanese restaurant conveniently located next door.  When I moved, I had not had much Thai food.  In fact, I only recall one brush with it in Pittsburgh prior (and couldn't tell you the name of the place if that's any indication).  But, I stumbled across the Thai Pepper, and it became my weekly comfort food.  Two of the simplest menu selections, the spicy noodle (which has an incredibly yummy sauce with fat noodles, ground chicken, red and green pepper strips and basil leaves) and basil fried rice (just as it says with chicken), challenged me each week to save enough cash to go pick up carry out on Friday night and have study meals through the weekends.  While I ate this very combination for more weekends than I could count, the Thai Pepper remains a guaranteed stop on any return trips to Philadelphia.  

A good friend of mine who I met in my earliest days in Philly and who also happens to be a huge Thai Pepper fan, has said of me that I'm one of the most giving people she knows but I will not share my Thai Pepper food.  While my initial reaction to this was to fight it, I have to say it's the truth.  I don't want to go and share either dish.  In fact, I think I've even rejected offers to split.  I want every delicious and flavorful bite to myself, and this includes any and all leftovers.  If I could figure out a way, I would absolutely have these dishes delivered to my West Virginia doorstep.   

Resisting the (Impulsive) Fast Food Urge

I think of myself as a fairly fortunate person when it comes to eating habits.  Some genetic something determined that I would, for the most part, really enjoy fresh and healthy foods.  This does not mean I don't have my junk and unhealthy cravings.  Sometimes, it's all I can do to fight the urge to hit the McDonald's or Wendy's drive-thru windows.  And sometimes, I cave.

Most weeks, I try to plan out some semi-healthy meals for the week.  Admittedly, breakfast and lunch choices, given the work schedule, don't leave me in love or craving more.  But, I've found a general rotation of things that satisfies nutritional needs and that are satisfying enough.  Dinners, however, are extremely challenging.  I do my best to come up with some delicious Sunday dinner each week that will provide at least a couple or few nights of leftovers.  But, as life would have it, that can't always happen.  So, I've started being less stubborn about this and a little more flexible in finding quicker (less gourmet) choices.  One of my recent favorites has been burgers (using Laura's lean beef), a serving of Green Giant's amazingly delicious baby brussel sprouts in butter sauce (a favorite of Weight Watchers) and any brand of sweet potato fries.  I see this meal as one of the closest in perfect balance--a solid serving of pretty healthy protein, an appetizing veggie and a small indulgence.

However, in my dinner trials and tribulations, I've realized how difficult it is to eat healthy and also economically.  One of  my hugest gripes, based on the above sample quick meal, is having to buy a package of at least 8 hamburger buns in order to indulge in this meal.  How ridiculous is this?  I've tried to be as thoughtful as possible and coincide lunch choices that require buns with dinner choices that do, but do you realize how much time this takes to figure out?  And how much of the fun is taken out of the process?  Sure, I could freeze the remaining buns, but who really enjoys a defrosted bun?

This leads me to how sneakily fast food swoops in as the most awesome choice ever.  You can literally get one of anything, eliminating waste.  You can make an impulsive choice, literally striking whatever fancy hits you at the moment of consumption, eliminating all of the time and bother of planning meals.  And, the topper, is that you can usually make this really awful choice for cheaper than what your nibbles would've cost otherwise.  So, why is our nation's girth growing at a record rate as more and more fast food restaurants pop up everywhere?  Because the task of resisting the impulsive fast food urge is one of monumental challenge in this world seemingly and ironically more obsessed with health each day.  We can live longer and healthier lives.  We just need to be counterculture to do so and resist the tantalizing fast food urge.

Spring Sports

Every year around this time, a rush of spring excitement arrives for me.  I'm a rather big fan of winter, so it's not necessarily the changes in weather.  Instead, it's the excitement surrounding spring sporting events.  My two favorite, in particular, are March Madness and The Masters Golf Tournament.  

March Madness holds my attention because the games are amazingly fresh and underdogs so often prevail.  One never knows around what bracket corner they may find a new upset, so perpetual tuning in is so worth it.  And it's that general spirit of hope that accompanies such play.  I also have what seems to be a genetic predisposition to romanticize any and all institutions of higher education for unknown and usually unfounded reasons.  The carefully landscaped campuses, studious faculty and students, libraries offering walls and walls of knowledge; they all take me to this magical place that I'm pretty sure is the exact destination colleges and universities want me to go so that I'll purchase their game gear (or perhaps attend there, as was the case of the unbelievably perfect appearance of Villanova and its surrounding royal suburbs).  So, I love the tournament because it calls to my attention institutions I may or may not already know of, and it motivates me to learn something about those places.

The Masters is super fun because, again, you never really know for sure who may win.  The final day of play is always super exciting, and most times, the smells of spring are in the air, which makes for a lovely backdrop to the beautifully groomed course at Augusta.  I can smell spring here in West Virginia and see a more accurately matched visual through the shots of electric greens and offering of florals and trees.  Also, I see myself more with the level of patience of Happy Gilmore rather than the true masters in the area of golf, so I really enjoy watching them demonstrate their skills.

So, during this year's season of spring sports, I will watch with zeal as usual.  I will mourn the close of the excitement and immediately look to baseball and football (always such a long wait) to fill the void left.

Furry Friday Edition

Today was a big day!  Lotus the Cat and I introduced our newest furry family member to our happy little clan.  Tucker the Goldendoodle joined our household, and I couldn't be happier with the initial hours of his first day. 

The process of searching for and finding the right pup was fun from the beginning.  After finding Renee the Breeder at Yesteryear Acres, I knew phase one of the search was complete.  Renee exudes nothing but happy and positive vibes when it comes to her dogs, and she and her husband and three children have made the doodle breeding business into an incredibly warm and loving family business.  The dogs are all as much a part of their family as each human member is, which is what I envisioned for my own canine companion.

I started exchanging e-mails with Renee at the end of November, and by the time I received her announcement for the arrival of Tucker's litter, I knew I was ready to take the plunge.  Since confirming my puppy the second week of January, I've literally counted down the days until his arrival.  A further demonstration of my anticipation manifested this week as a "sleeps" countdown.  So, beginning Sunday, I had 5 sleeps until picking up my new baby Tucker.  Every week between his birth and arrival, Renee would provide new pictures, so Monday picture days also became exciting events that stirred anticipation as early as Fridays before.   

After an incredibly fun trip to visit the puppies last weekend, the fun continued on today's journey to meet Renee and retrieve Tucker.  My mom and young nephew joined me, and we started the day off with fresh donuts and plenty of laughter.  After an uneventful drive home, Tucker and I settled in with Lotus.  I wasn't sure how Lotus would react, but he put his game face on and was a trooper.  He showed initial moments of trepidation, but I pet his head and encouraged him to fully explore Tucker, which he did, and that was the end of the trepidation.  This may be his equivalent of "fake it till you make it," but I'm pleased with his ability to do so.  Tucker appeared almost relieved to see a fellow four-legged furry friend, so it looks as though a happy friendship will blossom. 

Today has been a humble reminder of how much love is in this world to embrace, and it can be found in the smallest little packages.  I can't wait to watch Tucker grow and discover more of the world, and with any luck, this will prove a very happy and healthy forever home for him.

A Guilty Pleasure Revealed

It's no secret to people I know.  I am a die-hard American Idol fan.  I've tried and failed to allow a season to pass, unwatched.  This season, however, I find myself to be incredibly entertained by Heejun Han, a top-24 contestant from New York. 

First, I love Heejun's voice.  I think part of it is that what comes out of his mouth is not really like anything I would imagine coming out.  He's a great singer, and I really look forward to seeing where he goes throughout the season. 

Perhaps more, though, I L-O-V-E his quirky personality.  As if the fact that he works with disabled children in real life wouldn't make you love him anyhow, the guy has such a subtle and deadpan sense of humor, I'm never sure whether he's serious or really messing around.  He constantly makes everyone giggle.  His interactions with cowboy Richie Lawson were particularly funny during group week.

He also gets incredibly nervous with each performance, wigglin' his arms like crazy to shake it out, but then he belts it out, and you'd never know he was at all rattled.  And perhaps the best?  Heejun reveals his incredibly tender and humble nature every time he makes it to the next round.  He cries like a baby each time, as if surprised that he's actually making it.

I can't wait to watch this season's contestants (especially my favorites) as they make their way through the competition.  Please, America, I beg you to leave something other than two country singers standing.  Embrace the unique!!!  

Lessons of the Antrim Rope Bridge

During the summer between my junior and senior years in college, I joined a six week study abroad program in Dublin, Ireland.  I kiddingly refer to this time as a glorified vacation because I didn't need any of the credits for graduation.  But soon afterward, I realized it was probably the richest experience of my entire college education, if not my entire life.  I was reminded of this time this past weekend, and there was one moment in particular that sticks with me as probably the most profound of the trip.

Pictured above is the Antrim coast of Ireland, and if you look really close, there is a rope bridge (the Carrick-a-Rede Rope Bridge) that spans the space between that little island and the mainland.  A couple of friends and I took a day to go on a tour of the Antrim coast, and this was one of our stops along the way.  The bridge's framework is all rope and includes wooden steps along the way.  These rope bridges were built years and years ago near fishing communities so that the fishermen could more easily access the best fishing and regularly check their nets.  The scary part?  The drop down to the rocky coastline below is somewhere around 75 feet.  The fluidity of the rope infrastructure and massive plummet potential have a way of intimidating some.  But, we braved the danger and crossed.  When I reached the other side, I realized I could see Scotland from where I stood.  This, for whatever reason, made me stop and evaluate just how big and amazing the world is and how few moments have made me stop and feel that way.  It was also a very humbling moment because it made me realize how very small I am, as an individual, in this world.  Something about sitting on the coast of one country and looking across a huge watery expanse at another country really spoke to my core.  The overwhelming message?  It's not all about us.  There's so much more.

Ironically, the fact that we can turn on the television and see live feed from virtually anywhere on the planet makes this realization hard to grasp sometimes.  There are those surreal moments of watching war and conflicts abroad unfold as cameras roll.  There are the scenes of extreme poverty and illness that plagues communities the world over.  But, what is less frequently captured is the magic that the world has to give.  The sheer joys of better understanding our planet and all of its landscapes.  So, don't let the tube fool you.  Get out there and see what you want--whether that's lands abroad or destinations across state, city or county lines.  The first-hand experiences will be life-altering and humbling for sure.              

Public Commodities (with Human Spirits)

All of the news swirling since the death of beloved singer, Whitney Houston, has only added to my long-time thoughts surrounding celebrity culture.  Don't get me wrong, I understand that each and every television personality, movie star, pop icon, etc., has made a choice to take the path to stardom.  But, I guess it's the culture of how that celebrity is received that pains me on a regular basis.  The news media consistently fuels this growing encroachment of personal space.  And it's even more disappointing to think that people feel vindicated in wanting to know such information.  It's fine to mourn the loss of a celebrity, to celebrate their contributions to the industry, but isn't there a line that we should respect?  A line where the celebrity ends and the universal humanness begins?  A line where we can recognize that this was a real person who really died and that there are real people really hurting as a result?   

I found it to be rather ironic a few days ago when, on Good Morning America, Nancy Grace was scolded for her public speculation surrounding Whitney Houston's death, suggesting she had been pushed underwater.  Dan Abrams lit into her, asking why she simply would not take back what she had said or apologize for it.  But, what I wonder is how Nancy Grace's wild speculations are any different from the countless disrespectful comments and interviews that have aired across all news outlets since the singer's death.  CNN, Fox News, CBS, NBC, ABC and others have all grabbed the opportunity to speculate on countless topics not at all respectful during this time.  For instance, we've had a number of anonymous "eye witnesses" who apparently watched Whitney down countless numbers of alcoholic drinks in the morning hours the week before her death.  We've also got "insiders" who have openly commented on everything from her handling of finances to her every move leading up to the incident.  So, I guess my reaction to Dan Abrams trying to set Nancy Grace straight is one of indifference.  With such a sad state of media ethics across the board, how can you possibly wrong someone who only blends in with the antics that have been routinely employed for, what is now, way too long.  Nancy Grace embellishing her explanation of the death investigation is no different than all of the other outlets embellishing the factual reports on Houston's death.  Just as we don't need Grace's speculation (aka fiction) about certain aspects of the death investigation process (aka fact), we don't need [insert any reporter's name]'s stories of Houston's erratic behavior (aka fiction) that may or may not have led to her death (aka fact).  Surely, we can all see this parallel. 

In times of crisis and tragedy, it seems forgotten that these people are human at the core.  Sure, they have raked in unthinkable amounts of money for their talent(s) (or lack thereof), but they are truly owed the same respect and consideration that each of us is owed.  All it takes is a few minutes of stopping and reflecting on one of your own personal losses to put into perspective what Houston's family and many others have gone through at the hands of "reporting."  Is there some positive effect that can come out of us learning of Whitney's last days and financial situation?  Do we really need to see pictures of her room service table and bathroom floor time and time again?  Perhaps, someday, we will learn to relinquish our rights to scrutinize every aspect of the lives of these public commodities in the spirit of human kindness, empathy and respect and react to all instances of media mishaps the same as Dan Abrams reacted to his colleague, thus marginalizing such reporting practices.      

Bobbing for Books

I find it a very difficult task to choose books to read.  I have a very small selection of writers and stories that sit so near my heart, and there have been piles of others that, due to probably slightly unreasonable expectations, have fallen short.  The complicating factor is that I often need time after completing a read to really decide if the book falls into the favorites or not-so-favorites section.  The other complicating factor, as of late, is finding the will to force myself to get all the way through a book even if I'm not really feeling it.

Some other obstacles in this process come to mind.  Not all books have great covers, so a first impression may label them as dull, uninteresting, too wacky, not wacky enough, etc.  Not all books have great authors, so an interesting story may not bloom in all of its glory.  Not all books have a great story, so there may be a fantastic author behind it, but the story may be incredibly bad.  And this list can go on for what seems like forever.

My latest read was The Marriage Plot by Jeffrey Eugenides.  As I dove into this book, I wasn't convinced I should be spending my time on it.  However, since it brought me a certain amount of sadness to reach the end, it obviously resonated with me on some level.  While this book probably will not go down as one of my all-time favorites, it struck me as I finished it up that I had become incredibly invested in the story's characters.  The story was not terribly complicated, but through the introduction and development of its characters, an enormously impressive texture resulted.  

So, the next time your book is falling flat on its face for you, take a moment to think about the characters you've met and whether any one of them may, in the end, reward you for continuing the journey.            

Dear Saint V

Some get chocolates or flowers,
Some get candies or cards,
Others find a way through the hours,
And choose their heart to guard.

But, on this sweetest day,
I reflect on love worldwide,
And hope that there is a way
To somehow unite the divide.

And so to Saint V, I render these requests,
Hoping he can lend the tools from his loving treasure chest.

Abate our worldly sorrows,
Let our collective love shine.
Bring us to our knees with hope,
Replace despair with the divine.

And when today winds down and the next morrow comes,
Remind us of our mission, our mission to love as one.

Winter Blues

And now for a shocking confession.  I am mourning the loss of old fashioned winters.

Over the past couple of months, the mere trickle of a few snowflakes has stirred great excitement.  But, that excitement has been very short-lived because instead of bringing their friends, those flakes were the long and the short of what winter has had to offer.  I am, by far, a better equipped person for the winter months than the summer months.  If it weren't for being such a huge fan of sunshine, I would take winter year round.  I am the champion wimp of all wimps in extreme heat, and I can't even be quieted by air conditioning because I'm not a lover of that either.  The artificial cold is always too cold, and the extreme heat is suffocating.  It doesn't help that I'm borderline albino, so the sun is not kind to my skin even when I slop on the best and strongest sun protection.

Some of my fondest memories from childhood are those when the snow fell...and fell...and fell.  I was lucky enough to grow up in a neighborhood that offered amazing terrain for sled-riding and also close proximity to local businesses, like a video rental store, drug store and fast food joint.  So, once old enough, we'd venture out into the snow, play and then walk to where we could to exploit the guilt-free pleasures of snow days.  In fact, I'm not sure where I got the money, but I clearly remember purchasing my copy of The Beatles Anthology 1 on one such jaunt because the video store happened to carry it.

As I grew up, I started to love going out into the snowy days and nights to listen and observe.  The quiet to be found after a really good snow is hard to capture in any other setting.  And then there are the amazing sights--piles of snow accumulating in the most amazing places, performing high-wire acts, birds in search of vittles, the splendid greens peeking through the otherwise white canvas.  And then there was my trip to Colorado, during which I got to see my first ever hoar frost (picture at right).  Amazing!

And so, as the days and months wear on, I hope that Old Man Winter will graciously give the Ohio Valley at least one solid dose of his grandeur this year.  Kids need to be reminded of the magic of snow days, and we adults need to be reminded of what wonderful gifts nature affords us year round. 

Choices, Choices, Choices

I'm not sure it's always been the case, but as a modern-day American, I feel like I have a plethora of options, regardless of what decision is at hand.  I would say, in most cases, that this is fabulous and even a sign of progress.  But, are there times when not so many options would be better?

I encountered this question as I shopped for a new digital camera.  Not only are there a zillion makes to choose from, but there are a dozen considerations to first narrow down before you can even start deciding on a maker and model.  There's point and shoot under $200, point and shoot over $200, compact zoom, extended zoom, advanced compact, compact mirrorless, dSLR for entry-level, mid-level and enthusiast as well as the full-frame dSLR.  And just like cars, it seems like every new year, if not half or quarter year, will bring with it a whole new set of models and improvements.  So, while the decision to invest in a new camera was seemingly simple, the next step of actually choosing a camera seems so incredibly complex.   

Sometimes it's nice to only have an "A" or "B."  Even throwing a "C" in there can make things a little crazy.  But, I wonder if this seemingly complex state of choices is just a manifestation of our ever-evolving world.  For instance, before there were digital cameras and life was a little less busy and advanced, were there zillions of new options all the time when considering a simple camera purchase?  Before there was the internet, were there infinite ways to find the exact shirt or other random item you wanted?  Were people as overwhelmed by every single choice as we can be today?

It's these moments that the phrase "keep it simple" seems way out of step with where the world is today.  It's also these moments that remind me of how the stage is set to make it really easy to forget to be grateful for the everyday small stuff.  With so many choices and so much "noise," it is so easy to be distracted and move on to the next complicated choice.  Today, I will observe as many "choice intermissions" as possible.  It's okay to take a break.          

Best Practices in Being Human

You probably don't recognize the man in the image above.  I wouldn't have before last week.  He's democratic senator Ed Murray from Washington state.  One morning last week, as I was driving in to work, I heard a story on NPR, detailing the recent passage of a bill in Washington, which would legalize same-sex marriage there.  Granted, there's all kinds of chatter in the news right now on this topic, especially today after the federal appeals court in California determined the voter-approved ban on gay marriage there to be unconstitutional.  But, my reflections tonight are not on all of that buzz, they are focused on the words of Truth that Senator Murry declared as the Washington bill was being passed.

The senator was quoted as saying the following:

[Lawmakers who vote against gay marriage]"...are not, nor should they be accused of bigotry...Those of us who support this legislation are not, and we should not be, accused of undermining family life or religious freedom...Marriage is how society says you are a family."

I found this statement to be profound because it was an expression of tolerance too seldom heard--in politics or any other sphere of our modern-day society.  After thinking further about the words uttered, I decided I think this statement deserves to be counted as a best practice in politics.  In legal marketing, we often refer to and encourage the sharing of "best practices."  As such, we often discuss our experiences with one another, pointing out issues encountered and resolved, obstacles happened upon and overcome, etc.  Overall, best practices (and especially the communication of best practices) places everyone on the same plane of knowledge, encourages success in approach and places an undeniable focus on the common goals we share.

Sen. Murray's statement above places everyone on the same plane.  We're all human, and we all will require tolerance from someone (or a bunch of people) at one point or another.  His approach demonstrates a willingness to encourage success, regardless of differences, and that success would be in the form of living peacefully and equally.  Is there anyone who doesn't want that? 

In politics today, it's very rare to actually witness peaceful conciliation of partisan differences.  But, I think Sen. Murray did this amazingly well with his words above.  It places a hugely controversial topic on such a basic level of human understanding.  For any given moral priority or personal freedom, we should all be willing to exchange with one another and respect differences.  I'll give anyone their religious freedom and worry-free happiness in return for my personal freedom and worry-free happiness.  See how this works?  Tolerance.  Understanding.  Best practices in being human.     

 

The Wondrous Weekend

Weekends--what everyone lives for, Monday through Friday.  I don't know if everyone is the same about them, but I know in my own case, they're an obsession.  I wake up each day, thinking about how much closer I have gotten to its start.  I go to sleep each night, again reassuring myself that it is almost here.  I've never heard anyone be excited about weekdays.  Unless, that is, a weekday stands for an early entry into their weekend.  A few friends and I regularly celebrate "hump day" Wednesdays, but I definitely don't embrace them as I do Friday night, Saturday or Sunday. 

I think weekends fit into the "supply and demand" concept common in consumerism.  It's what we get least of, so we naturally want more.  When we are given more, we just want more again.  Is this a genetic slip in all of us?  Are we programmed to only want what we cannot have?  To always view the grass as being greener on the other side?  What a conundrum! 

I wonder if it's possible to tackle time, and the busy way of life, and embrace a weekend way of living seven days a week.  I don't know about your weekends, but mine are marked with contentment through cooking what I want, coming and going as I want, taking moments I don't normally take to appreciate the everyday light in my world and lots of other breathable things.  I think I will tackle this.  Yes, work will consume lots of hours it doesn't on the weekend, but as I've learned through an amazing boss with an amazing outlook, those hours don't have to be filled with stagnancy and unhappiness or stress.  Full-time weekends.  I like it.

Punxsutawney...Donald?

It is not a common occurrence that A Tribute to Life post will include blatant political instruction.  However, I have to beg of you, vote for whoever you want in the upcoming presidential election.  But, please, whatever you do, please do not look to The Donald as your voting compass.  I would argue that you should probably do your research and vote based on your own conclusions, not necessarily voting based on any one's endorsement.

This man is a towering figure in popular culture.  He has a reality television show (the sole thing keeping him from running for president, so maybe, just maybe, once May comes, he'll toss his hat in), he is a business mogul, he has a litter of children and has had numerous wives, he has bad hair, he relentlessly pursued further on the Obama birth debate (as if this country should prioritize that in the last portion of Obama's presidency and at an otherwise pretty busy time of real concerns).  You can do better.  Seriously.  Be bold. 

In fact, on this day of annual celebration of Groundhog Day, perhaps we can just quickly ask Punxsutawney Phil to let us know which Republican should be on the ticket.  Now that sounds like a more acceptable solution.        

Seeing Stars

Ever experience one of those days when the world seems a little too close?  In a cramping your style sort of way?  I'm pretty sure they're not a rarity in this world that grows exponentially busier with each passing day. 

Today was a beautiful spring-like day that reminded me I should be missing the sunshine during these winter doldrums.  The experience is no different than being reminded of the never-ending assortment of totally unhealthy food out there smack-dab in the middle of your newest diet.  In any case, due to the impeccably clear conditions of the day, which lasted a good portion of the day (at least up until the moment I stepped out of the doors of work), I was able to spot some stars burning in the night sky.  As I gazed up, I inhaled a deep breath of warmer-than-usual air and was grateful for the moment of space and gentle reminder that we're so stinking small.  This helped me conclude that the worries of the day are even smaller, making them insignificant in the final analysis.  It also made me think of  Don McLean's song, "Vincent," which was an unknown song to me for way too many years of my life.  And then there's Vincent Van Gogh's "Starry Night" painting.  So many great treats these fundamental elements of our world afford us.   

If worries are measured in importance against the stars that burn beautifully for us in the night sky, the worries quickly melt to nothingness.  I chuck this up to be a great little note to self:  Self, it all gets better if you just look at the stars.    

 

Living Passionately: Part Deux

Not long ago, I dedicated an entry to the acknowledgement of Gabby Giffords' bravery and greatness as a result of living passionately.  Today, I want to take the time to acknowledge a recent loss in the world of freestyle skiing, which also demonstrates another flavor of passionate living.

Sarah Burke, a freestyle skier and Canadian native, seems by all accounts to have been a pioneer, amazingly talented athlete and also a good human being (which, in my opinion, trumps all).  Her tragic end came as the result of a bum landing while practicing in her long-time domain of the halfpipe.  I've skimmed several different stories, telling her story and the story of that day, and the best and most comprehensive I've found was published online by SportsNet.  Of all I've read, this was simply a case of someone going through the motions of their workday and unexpectedly encountering a split-second, random complication that proved fatal.

The part of Sarah's story most interesting to me is that which tells of her intense sense of self.  She was dedicated to perfecting her practice of the sport, but she also expanded on this passion and worked very hard to advance opportunities for women in the sport.  She married a fellow skier and, together, they enjoyed what most would consider extreme fun (speaking for myself only, helicopter skiing is not on my list of pastime activities).  But, the theme throughout her story is one of passionate living. 

The safety of the sport, as a whole, was of course called into question after Sarah's accident.  But, with some reflection, I fall on the side of personal freedom in this.  My father was a coal miner his entire career, and he similarly walked into dangerous conditions every single day of his time as a miner.  I'm sure there are many other examples of individuals serving professional roles that entail danger, but as with many, Sarah seemed to simply want to live her passion.  Who can blame her? 

From the day we're delivered into this (sometimes) unforgiving world, we begin a journey as an ironically fragile (and yet superior) participant of that world.  Life is quite a miraculous feat when successful.  Just because there are 6.8 billion of us, it doesn't change the fact that there are a million internal and external forces of nature that must flow in harmony for us to sustain life.  So, in reflecting on the life of Sarah Burke, I will be reminded of the intense and lasting force of passionate living, but I will also be reminded of the intense fragility inherent in each and every human life. 

Sunrise Songs

I can't think of a better way to start the day, than to wake up in the morning with a song playing so loudly in your head, minus any technological intervention, you can't ignore it.  This happened to me this morning, and as I reflected on it, it seemed like my subconscious DJ that chose the track had exercised some musical genius.  On a day when the sun was bursting through the window as I woke, Bob Marley's "Three Little Birds" song was on loop in my mind.  What a great way to start the day with a sense of ease, happiness and optimism.  (As the 45 mph wind gusts blew the snow early in the evening, the tune had somehow faded, but it was an awesome start!)   

I'm curious now to track these sunrise tracks and see if there's any rhyme or reason to them.  Are they dependent on mood at bedtime?  Will the sunshine always encourage some awesomely optimistic and happy track?  These are the times I wish I could search through volumes of records of general population to find out such things about the wider world.  This is like the 100% certified organic of the iPod/iTunes shuffle setting. 

As I go to sleep tonight, I will beg my mind's DJ to not get stage fright and to please treat me to a brand new and enjoyable track tomorrow. 

  

Furry Friday

 

Meet Lotus. This is my favorite feline and best pal. I adopted him a year and a half ago from the Belmont County Animal Shelter. They, in fact, warned me of his eccentric ways, gently nudging one another and mumbling, "She's taking the bad kitty." This was not an overwhelmingly encouraging sign for a soon-to-be-owner-who-just-lost-her-beloved-cat, but I thankfully chose to follow through with the adoption and was madly in love with Lotus shortly thereafter.

It didn't take me long to choose a name for my new addition.  I had, sadly, lost my other cat, Lewis, very suddenly due to what appeared to be a congenital heart defect.  So, going through the motions of adopting a new friend was something very therapeutic.  In doing so, however, I definitely didn't want to lose sight of what I had just lost.  I wanted to honor my previous experience but also capture some sense of renewal.  Deep, I know, for naming a cat.  In any case, I loved the idea of the lotus flower, which grows out of the muddy bottoms of ponds and yet breaks the surface with a glorious flower bloom.  My hope was to have the same experience with this new little spirit.  

Lotus has become a hallmark of home for me.  He's very dog-like in many ways, playing fetch with his favorite stuffed mouse and bird, greeting me at the door, hanging out with friends (because cats need friends, too!).  But, sometimes, at the end of a long workday or long day, period, I'm pretty sure he has no idea the humbling reminder he hands me.  His entire life is built around my comings and goings and the time I make for him.  And regardless of how often I leave, he's always at the ready when I return...full of love and kitty vigor.  What more can a kitty mama ask for?

Small Town-ness

Growing up in a small town comes with such a mixed bag of experience, an unmistakable flavor.  While many will vehemently argue that the small town experience encourages cultural isolation or inexperience an insular ways, I've realized recently that there is a certain emotional phenomenon that, I think, results from this same small town experience.  For lack of a better description, I guess it's just a small town-ness that can't be dismissed. 

I recently watched a documentary called Hey, Boo:  Harper Lee & To Kill A Mockingbird.  This novel was a repeating theme in my life from elementary school up through a book club I attended in the not-so-distant past, but I never really knew a whole lot about Harper Lee.  So, this documentary motivated me to learn some more about her by reading the transcripts of the few interviews she's ever done.  One of Harper Lee's key concepts in her writing of this novel was to capture and preserve rural Southern culture.  She elaborated on its differences from urban culture.  Everything from its (former) lack of industrialization, resulting in more interaction between people and less distraction, to its lack of cultural events came up as things that helped shape the rural cultural landscape.  She also stated many times that she wanted to capture the universality inherent in this culture, just as many authors had formerly captured universality in other (particularly urban) instances.  This made me think about growing up in Wheeling and what could be drawn from that as particularly unique and also universal. 

One thing that I kept returning to is how, in this small town setting, everyone knows everyone.  This is not always true in Wheeling, but it's almost guaranteed that if you don't know someone, there is someone in your close circle who knows that person.  And sometimes, there's even a realization that you do actually know the person.  In any case, after some reflection, I finally arrived at a "so what?" about this small town phenomenon.  This is where the small town-ness comes in.  I believe, in my own case at least, it created a strong sense of empathy from a young age.  The empathy grows out of the fact that you usually do have some personal tie to almost everyone, so when anything happens, there is a closeness to it that you don't always have in larger cities and towns.  You grieve with families on a regular basis, as they lose loved ones, young and old.  You share in their joys with the addition of generations and promotions and other successes.  You rally with the community in concern when an outcome is in limbo, threatening. 

In any case, what this experience created for me was a universal sense of empathy.  There is a closeness that I feel to all people, regardless of where they reside on this great planet, because all I've known is to feel this closeness.  I think that it creates a rich sense of community and unity, regardless of whether this is at work, at home or abroad.  It is my nature to meet someone new and desire a closeness, often dismissing any sense of competition, superiority or sense of "other."  It could easily be interpreted more widely as a form of gossip or drama, but in reflecting on my own experience, I think I would say I feel fortunate to have lived this experience.  It has instilled in me an unwaivering sense of appreciation and interconnectedness with others.  And that, my friends, is a fulfilling experience.    

Political Ennui

For any audience member taking in last night's State of the Union Address, it was difficult to miss the overt displays of boredom, smug disagreement and overall lack of interest.  Whether it was Eric Cantor's epic struggle to mute any facial expression or the mechanical and empty applause of others, the clear message was that Washington, DC, and the United States leadership has become so wrought with bipartisan fervor that there's no longer a common theme or purpose to be found anywhere.   

Everything now is a debate, and within the various debates, meaning seems to be lost and individual or partisan vendettas reign.  Even this traditional report, which is meant to inform and rally the members of Congress and present an opportunity for thoughtful consideration or even (scandalous!) unity in purpose, includes the opposing party's response.  The fact that this began happening in the 60s and continues today proves the undoing of our nation's leadership has been incubating for some time.  And why this would ever seem like a good idea, I'm not really sure.  Taking just a minute for consideration, it immediately becomes clear that this "response" is never going to be someone standing to profess their alliance with and belief in the nation's president and his parties legislative goals.  It's simply another medium of disagreement and chaos.  How can anyone keep track of what issues are truly at hand when there's a constant volley that makes the core set of facts a moving target?  It would be like every news report being countered by a "response" or competing news unit's interpretation of the facts.  This happens frequently, too, but just imagine if this lack of grounding was found in every area of life.  Never mind the fact that it seems to have the greatest hold in one of the most important areas--our nation's leadership both on the domestic and international stages.     

When reading articles, watching news reports, listening to radio commentary, the only common theme these days seems to be the disunion in politics and nation-building.  This trend undoubtedly leads to a common disinterest and lack of confidence in the system.  It seems a systemic collapse into political ennui, which has reached record heights and has affected most everyone--both representatives and constituents alike.  Rebuilding a sense of confidence and recovering a state of balance and progress seems just out of reach.  But, for the well being of our nation and world, let's hope that someone steps up and helps end this "waiting for Godot" moment in politics. 

 

 

  

Striking Your Own Fancy

The dawning of the newest season of "Oscar buzz" has caused me to ponder the question of whether our quickly growing information technology arsenal is speeding up the extinction of individualism. 

One of the easiest ways to denote the importance of any object you describe is to add the tag of "...it was nominated for..." or "...he/she was endorsed by..." or "...it was highly rated by Consumer Reports..."  Have you ever wondered what the world's people did before this information was easily attained?  More importantly, could it be that these easily accessible resources make us think a little less about what we actually like? 

I am a true lover of the "Flixster" app on my iPhone, which handily provides the daily movie times for virtually all movie theaters within my reach.  The app also includes all commentary offered via the Rotten Tomatoes web, which provides movie reviews far and wide.  All movies have a percentage approval from both everyday viewers as well as the elite critics circle.  If you see a red ripe tomato, you have a winner, if you see the green splatter of what once was a tomato, then you're going to have to suffer through the potential film of choice.  I find myself often trusting these ratings without hesitation, and I've not had a problem in doing so, for the most part, but I wonder how people made movie decisions before this all existed. 

This movement reminds me of the overarching theme of globalization of all things.  In the sharing of ideas, it seems we run the risk of perhaps having fewer promoted for consideration.  And then we run the risk of becoming a world of followers.  So, in this ever-condensing world of ideas, I think I will actively work to seek out opportunities to differentiate.  Not to the extreme or so as to become counterculture, but perhaps just a enough so that I can look at some of these measures of success (the Oscars, the Emmys, the Grammys, the Nobel prize in literature, the Booker Awards, film critics, newspaper editorials, etc.) and occasionally recognize that something has been missed.  Something that I perhaps stumbled across all on my own and can appreciate, minus all of the buzz.      

Living Passionately

Today marked a day of at least two major headlines.  One of those two was the announcement that Gabrielle Giffords would step down from Congress.  Ever since the unfortunate events of January 8, 2011, I've paid fairly close attention to the progress the congresswoman has made.  I listened and watched to find out that she survived.  I listened and watched to find out that she was progressing as needed.  I listened and watched to find out if Mark was going to, indeed, make his last mission in space.  I listened and watched as Gabrielle gave her first interview with Mark by her side.  Gabby and Mark went from a couple of people I had never heard of to a couple of people I am grateful to have in this world every day.  

Strip down the public personae, and at the heart of this couple, you have an amazing amount of love, first, but in the backdrop, you also have incredible demonstrations of work ethic, bravery, loyalty, patriotism and inspiration.  It was no surprise, for instance, when I viewed Gabrielle's videotaped message today and instead of feeling disappointed or shocked, there was an overwhelming feeling of excitement for what's to come for her.  Her outlook is contagious and inspiring, and that has never changed.  

While the face of politics contains indelible blemishes from adulterous acts committed and bipartisan disrespect, this undercurrent of hope and bravery that Gabrielle Giffords has introduced to the dialogue seems almost misplaced.  This is not to say that she doesn't have or never had any mistakes to contribute, political or otherwise, but rather to say that out of all the stories we endure with regard to our political system and those participants within it, this one is one that brings unbelievable value to the table for adults and children alike. 

As Gabrielle Giffords dedicates herself to the current task assigned to her, my hope is that her story can bring others to their feet and inspire action.  Gabrielle's story has taught me that to live passionately is to do so across all areas of one's life.  We've heard the stories of her constantly visiting her constituents, dedicating herself to their needs and causes, but what we've had the precious opportunity to also see is how that same spirit of passion has lived on in her survival and recovery. 

I have not seen any stories in which she and her husband are dissecting what happened that day last January or stating what should or should not happen to the shooter.  What I see is two people living passionately, despite an awful situation, and continuing to light up the room with their optimism.  I see two people redirecting their attention from what they did over a year ago to what they must now...but happily so.  Making the best of it.  And if Mark Kelly and Gabrielle Giffords can make the best of a gunshot to the head, then I have great hope that I, too, can make the best of all of the little complications (comparatively speaking) each day brings.  It is also a great reminder that this spirit of hope and optimism is contagious.  Think about this the next time a "downer" conversation comes up and try just a brief application of positive thinking.  The rippling outward of good is amazing to watch.        

When Nature Inspires

Thanks to a free birthday day off that my firm allows all employees, I was able to start an extra long weekend today.  Because I didn't have to worry about hitting the office, I decided to catch up on some items in my Netflix instant queue.  I was so inspired by both, I have to share the recommendations with any Tribute readers out there. 

Last night, I watched a documentary produced by National Geographic, called The Appalachian Trail, or the AT as many hiking/outdoors aficionados would refer to it.  My first reaction was one of awe at the assortment of flora, fauna and landscapes available to those who take this trek.  On a recent trip to Colorado, two Ohio Valley natives and I discussed the grandeur of the Rockies in the context of how distinctively different they are from the Appalachians.  But, not once, would any of us utter a word about a lacking of any sort on the part of the Appalachians.  Nor could anyone argue that any of the rolling mountain ranges along the AT are lacking.  The images of the mountain landscape National Geographic offered were nothing short of breathtaking--and I don't even own a fancy TV that would've made them extra special.  The other thing that struck me about the thru-hikers (or those who undertake the entire trail) is that there is a distinct culture that has developed as a result of this trail, and it affects each and every hiker who takes to its paths.  Not only that, there are amazing samples of wildlife to also add to its charming existence.  For instance, in the segment of the trail that cuts through Virginia and the Shenandoahs, there are packs of wild horses that hang out along the trail.  According to the documentary, they came about simply as the result of some random horse escapes and comings together.  Isn't nature just awesome?  Left to its own devices, it's far more creative and complex than any man-made anything.

The other film I watched is called 180° South, and this film featured the journey of one adventurer (Jeff Johnson) in which he made a similar pilgrimage as that of two of his idols, Yvon Chouinard and Doug Tompkin, to Patagonia.  This film was great because it offered amazing images and scenery, but it also told a really interesting story of the climbing/surfing culture of the 1960s and the modern day culture of outdoors enthusiasts.  The really awesome message underlying this entire film is that nature is worth it.  It's worth putting everything down, it's worth fighting for and protecting and, most of all, it can offer some of the most rewarding gifts in return.  At the core of nature is a certain simplicity, compared to our incredibly fast-paced and technological world, and yet it takes a lot of hard work to achieve this simplicity as a human communing with nature.  The men (and women) featured in this film offer such inspiration for putting the hard work in and living the simplicity.

Maybe it's the New Year spirit, or the spirit of a new decade, but I see some serious potential for the adoption of some of the tenets from each of these films in my life.  Hope you can take a watch and walk away even half as blown away.